Love Eternal
by 1tT4k3sTw0
Summary: A Hetalia Steampunk Au Summary: In Steampunk 1800s the pirate captains Arthur Kirkland and Antonio Fernández Carriedo are racing each other to find the last of the immortal Talisman simply known as the Timeless. During the hunt Arthur gets a new cabin boy who he hadn't seen in years. And Antonio has to run from authorities because of a certain kidnapping that took place years ago.
1. Chapter 1

Ch. 1:

 _USUK_

 _Boom_!

A sudden blast hit Arthur's eardrums; he quickly surveyed the deck, trying to find where the damage was. There, the cannon had shot through one of his masts, leaving a gaping hole but Arthur just laughed. Luck was on his side if the person in charge of the Matador's cannons had that bad of an aim.

Far up in the stormy skies flew two airships, one a ship of black and emerald, the Joker, run by the infamous Captain Kirkland and his crew. Right now the Joker faced its red and gold adversary, the Matador, led by the Spaniard Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. Antonio was one of Arthur's more determined enemies; the Brit had never been able to blow up that tomato lover. But today was the day.

Sword in hand he raced to the bow, ignoring the call of his first mate Lukas, who was insisting he not do anything stupid. Arthur smirked; the old boy worried too much. At the bow Arthur got a good look at the Matador, it was bulkier than the Joker but that also meant it was slower and that's what Arthur took pride in. He raised his sword up at the ship that was still firing misguided cannons; "On my mark men!" he yelled out and swung his sword down, slicing the damp air, "FIRE!"

With a resounding boom three cannon balls flew through the air and struck the Matador's side, Arthur grinned nastily, "Try and beat that Antonio," he whispered.

Suddenly a strong blast of air hit the ship and tilted the Joker sideways, Arthur quickly grabbed a hold of the railing, hearing his crew yelp in surprise and he prayed they kept their wits about them. Though he noticed with resentment that the strong gust had barely moved the Matador, and despite its now flaming hull it was still sailing finely. Another gust rocked the ship and Arthur let out a curse, spotting what was causing the strong weather: air sprites.

He gritted his teeth at the tiny but strong and mischievous creatures as they fluttered around his ship, laughing cheekily. He turned to look at Lukas who was at the wheel, they locked eyes and Arthur knew his first mate saw these magical little imps as well. They were the only two of the crew who did.

"Get lost," he snapped, swatting at them but they only laughed harder, "Go away!"

A blast made Arthur whirl around, air sprites forgotten, as he saw an enemy cannon ball slamming into his hull and getting lodged there. He looked back at the Matador and saw a lone figure standing at the bow. The person's outfit was similar in appearance to Arthur's, except where Arthur's was black, the stranger's was red. He smirked bitterly, Captain Carriedo. Arthur stood up on the railing, grabbing a handful of netting in case those air sprites were looking for some more mischief.

"How about we settle this like gentlemen, Antonio," he yelled out over the sound of cannon blasts.

He saw the Spaniard lift his hand and the Matador's cannons receded back into the innards of the ship. "Hold your fire men," Arthur called to his crew, "And brace yourselves!"

He nodded to Lukas, who, by his annoyed appearance, knew exactly what Arthur wanted and that it wasn't the best idea. But he started turning the wheel toward the Matador, the red and gold ship doing the same.

"Forgive me, darling," Arthur whispered affectionately to the Joker, "But I will not let this giant excuse of a pirate airship get the best of you."

The ships faced each other, bow to bow, Arthur glared at Antonio who stood perfectly still, and Arthur smiled to himself, his blood boiling as always at the anticipation of a fight. This was in his genetics, he was born to be a pirate, to fight, to plunder, to be free with just his ship and the sky, and he would be a pirate until the end of time.

"Turn on the thrusters," he called out, waving his arm in signal and suddenly the Joker shot forward at an unreal speed, followed quickly by the Matador. Arthur braced himself as the two ships slammed into each other, wood and metal flying and the yells of both crews drowned out by the crash. But all Arthur focused on was the red-clad man in front of him.

"ATTACK," he commanded and jumped from his ship onto the Matador, running toward Antonio with his sword raised.

The man barely had time to counter, raising his sword quickly, metal met metal and sparks flew as the two captains faced each other. Arthur smirked disdainfully at the wary green eyes that were a shade lighter than his own. Along with that and his curly hair Arthur only saw Antonio as a little boy trying to be a man, despite him being as old as Arthur.

"That was a bad move, mi amigo," Antonio hissed, pushing Arthur away and taking a few steps back. His green eyes now hard and threatening but that only excited Arthur, battles were so much more fun when your opponent was prepared to slice you open. He gripped his sword tighter and chuckled darkly, "Is that so lad? Why don't you come over here and make me regret it?"

Antonio's eyes narrowed and they both ignored their crews that were already in a bloody brawl, the two captains always did this when their ships crossed paths. The battles would always begin and end when they chose so. Antonio lifted his sword arm and Arthur did the same, the Spaniard scowled and Arthur smirked. Then in a blur of movement they ran at each other, slicing their swords through the air, trying to reach flesh but only hitting steel.

"You've gotten better, lad," Arthur complimented as the two wove a deadly dance over the deck, the rest of the fighting crews making sure to give them a wide berth.

"You're gotten worse," this time Antonio smirked, "Maybe your old age is getting to you Kirkland?"

Arthur smiled knowingly, "I wouldn't call you young." Arthur nearly got Antonio's neck but the man dodged it just in time, "At least, not in years. But inside you're still just a kid."

"Nothing wrong with that," Antonio shot forward and was able to graze Arthur's leg, blood spraying on the deck, Arthur cursed but his smiled stayed on his face.

"No, nothing wrong with that," he admitted, whirling around and managing to catch Antonio's hip, he felt a wave of satisfaction as the man's white shirt darkened. "Except that children wear their hearts on their sleeves."

The words made Antonio stop for a fraction of a second, giving Arthur enough time to knock the sword out of the Spaniard's hands and drive his sword through his gut.

Antonio let out a hiss of pain and fell to his knees, glaring down at the sword. Arthur's eyes brightened when he saw the necklace hanging from Antonio's neck, the talisman, the one thing that was keeping Antonio from writhing on the ground in his last death throes.

"Because of your childish ways I know your weakness," Arthur whispered and made a grab for the talisman, Antonio quickly yanked the sword out, blood going everywhere, before throwing it at Arthur. He wasn't even trying to stab his enemy; he was only desperate to get away from him which he should be.

But before Arthur could snatch the talisman away from his foe a slicing pain hit his back and he let out a cry, falling to his knees, he looked over his shoulder to see a young boy with dark hair and an unnaturally long curl glaring down at him. The boy could be no older than eighteen and held an axe in his hands, blood dripping from it. Arthur's eyes widened when he realized he had just been stabbed by an axe.

"Get off this ship," the boy growled, despite his harsh tone the boy's eyes shone with fear.

Arthur glared darkly, ready to get up and teach this boy to respect his elders when a gust of wind, stronger than the first two slammed into him, even rocking the Matador. The boy fell to the deck from the force and Antonio quickly crawled over to the boy, still dripping blood from his wound.

"Captain," Lukas's voice yelled out and Arthur turned to see the rest of his crew quickly getting onto the Joker, "Let's go!"

It was then Arthur noticed the thousand of air sprites whirling around both ships, he remembered that the imps hated the sight and smell of blood, and it looked like they would make a twister to get them away.

"Jolly good idea," he muttered, picking himself up and running back to his ship.

"Get us out of here, Lukas," he ordered once he and the rest of the crew were safely onboard. The Matador was already turning away, disappearing into the clouds.

"We're going the opposite way," Lukas decided, heading back to the wheel.

Arthur didn't reply, his back and leg aching and still bleeding, he headed down to his cabin.

The only reason Arthur wasn't dead, the only reason he hadn't died a long time ago, was because of his blood. He came from a long history of wizards, and even though he could not cast any spells he still had magic in his blood, it had made him invincible. It would take a very large wound to make it fatal, all he would have to do is stitch these wounds up and he'd be as good as new. Along with that he was also immortal, or at least he had a very slow ageing process. Almost like his old friend Francis who was actually an Immortal, but where Francis couldn't stand living forever Arthur loved it. He really would be free for the rest of his life.

"My life isn't yours to control," an angry voice came from the cabin door.

Arthur turned to see Lukas, his arms crossed and eyes glaring, "I joined this crew because you were my best chance at finding my brother. I didn't join to follow you around, getting stabbed over and over again just to see if you can survive it."

"I can," Arthur stated, "We both can." Lukas's ancestors were wizards as well.

The man scoffed with disgust, "You have issues, Kirkland. All you ever do is fight and steal; perhaps you could get a more progressive hobby to fill that emptiness inside."

Arthur rolled his eyes as he pulled out his first aid kit, "What makes you think I have a feeling of emptiness?"

Lukas turned to leave, "Because you keep trying to kill yourself…You keep trying to find your death, and if you keep it up, you will." Lukas slammed the door as he left.

Arthur scowled, feeling a bit guilty. Lukas was only angry because they hadn't found his brother, all he knew was that he disappeared from their home years ago. They followed as many leads as they could, and now we're heading to France to check out their latest lead. But despite his concern Lukas didn't need to drag Arthur into it, he simply enjoyed the thrill of danger. He wasn't looking for his death.

Alfred glared down at the dirty wood table of the pub, the raucous and drunk noises surrounding him just making him angrier. Here they were in the Civil War and all he was allowed to do was stay at an old town with a bunch of soldiers who could care less about justice. A year ago when Alfred had turned eighteen he had willingly enlisted into the army, ready to fight to make the United States a better place. But they refused to give them a chance to do anything! And if Alfred stayed in this dirty town that puffed steam and left an acid aftertaste in his mouth, much longer he'd go insane.

"So they were right," a familiar, quiet voice, broke through his thoughts, "You did get into a fight."

Alfred touched the tender bruise on his cheek before glaring up at whom had to be his only friend in the entire army: Matthew Williams.

The main reason Matthew and Alfred had become friends was because they looked so eerily alike; most people seeing them together mistake them for twins. However they had only met a year ago when Matthew came from Canada to help with the war, Alfred sometimes wondered what had made his friend leave home to come and fight but he felt it was too personal a question to ask.

"No need to scold me," Alfred said bitterly, "The lieutenant already did that, thanks."

Matthew sat down next to his friend and called the waitress for a drink, "I heard you got into a fight with four other soldiers."

"I did," Alfred said, "And I beat them to a pulp."

Matthew blew out a breath, "What did they do?"

"They were bullying this colored boy who didn't do anything," Alfred growled, still seeing red form the memory, "They don't even understand why we're fighting this war."

"Not all of us can be pure-hearted heroes like you, Al," Matthew replied quietly, thanking the waitress for his drink.

"Yeah, I guess," Alfred replied, feeling slightly better that Matthew called him a hero, ever since he was little that's the one thing he always wanted to be, somebody's hero.

"I'm not saying what you did was wrong," Matthew said, "But if you're not careful you'll get kicked out of the army or worse."

Alfred nodded, the lieutenant said the exact same thing; he let out a sigh, "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if we could just go see some action, you know?"

"I'd be careful of what I wish for," Matthew warned, watching Alfred with concern, "War isn't a fun little game, Al. Its hell and no one should wish for it."

"I know that," Alfred said, "But I just…I want to help make a difference, any difference!"

"I know how you can make a difference."

Alfred and Matthew looked up to see an unfamiliar man; he was dressed sharply with black hair and grey eyes, by his accent he was from France. Alfred wasn't too surprised, this was a port town and airships were always coming in bringing people from all walks of life, but none of them had ever wanted to talk to any soldiers before. He eyed this stranger warily.

"How can we help you, sir," Matthew smiled politely, his eyes also a little wary.

"Well," the man said, sitting down next to them, "I bragged to all my friends back home that I would meet some famous American soldiers, buy them drinks and everything. So, in order for me not to look like a fool no one wants to talk to, can I buy you two some drinks?"

Alfred smile smugly, it was nice for someone to call them famous soldiers when he didn't even know them, but Alfred suspected this man wanted something in return.

Matthew must have come to the same conclusion because he smiled kindly and shook his head, "It's a very kind offer sir, but…how to put this…we aren't interested."

The man seemed confused for a moment, then his eyes widened in realization and he quickly shook his head, "Oh, no, no, you misunderstand me! I simply want to share a drink among friends, nothing more nothing less."

Personally from all the stories Alfred had heard he expected it was best to keep his guard up around Frenchmen like this, but one drink couldn't hurt.

"I guess we can allow it then," Alfred decided, puffing up his chest, "But it'll have to be quick we are very busy, you see."

Matthew only rolled his eyes as the delighted Frenchman jumped up and went to get them drinks. "I don't know if this is the best idea, we don't even know that man."

"I didn't know you when I first saw you but then I took the plunge and got to know you and now I'm the best thing that has ever happened to you," Alfred smiled.

Matthew chuckled softly, "You and your ego are going to get me killed."

The man came back with three drinks, seeming overjoyed that the two would let him buy them drinks; honestly it was a little creepy. But Alfred and Matthew politely took sips of it while the man talked animatedly about his home and job and family. After a while his voice seemed to get quieter and quieter. Then things started getting blurry.

"I think it's time for us to go Mr.…" Alfred realized the man never gave them his name.

"Of course," the man smiled.

Alfred turned to Matthew who looked as sluggish as Alfred felt, he tried standing up but his legs felt like jelly and with sudden worry he realized the bar was almost completely empty, all the soldiers had left.

"Here, let me help you two home," the man offered kindly.

The last thing Alfred remembered were two blurry people walking into the bar before he blacked out.


	2. Chapter 2

Ch. 2:

 _Spamano_

Lovino closed his eyes at the harsh wind rocked the two ships. Where had such a strong wind come from? He clutched the bloody axe in his hand, trying to catch his breath. He hadn't known what had come over him, doing something as stupid as attacking a pirate captain! But seeing Antonio bleeding on the deck had stirred something in him that he'd rather not study.

"Lovi," Antonio's voice rasped in his ear and Lovino realized his captain had crawled over to him, despite the still bleeding wound in his stomach. "Are you okay?"

Lovino slapped the hand Antonio placed on his shoulder away, glaring up at the man, "I'd be a lot better if you played Captain for once and got the ship out of this freak storm!"

Antonio blinked then smiled, like he always did when Lovino yelled at him (which was all the time). "I'm glad you're okay."

With a grunt Antonio stood up, his hand pressed against his wound, he called out to his men, ordering them to get back to their stations and get the Matador to safety. The Joker was already heading the opposite direction.

Lovino stood up, heading down to Antonio's cabin; he knew it was pointless to get the bastard to tend to his wounds before the rest of the crew was tended to. So he might as well have bandages and alcohol ready for when he decided he was done bleeding.

Down in Antonio's cabin as Lovino got the first aid kit together he thought about how this had become a common thing. Running into Captain Kirkland, fighting them, Antonio nearly getting his ass handed to him, and then something stopping the fight so they could retreat and fight another day.

He let out an aggravated sigh, Lovino's luck had run out the day Antonio took him onto his ship and made him his cabin boy. That had been twelve years ago.

"Cabin boy," he snorted to himself, "Yeah, right, I'm more like his damned nurse."

"Who're you talking to?" The sudden question made Lovino nearly jump out of his skin, he turned to glare at Antonio who stood at the door, an easy smile on his face; if he was feeling any pain from his wound he was good at hiding it.

"Myself," he answered, he pointed to the chair beside Antonio's desk. "Sit down."

Antonio did as he was told, the only proof of his discomfort was the sigh of relief he let escape his lips as he sat down.

"You do that a lot," Antonio said airily as Lovino walked over with the kit in hand. "Talk to yourself, I mean."

"Well, I'm the only one who'll listen to me," Lovino replied, unbuttoning only the buttons he needed to in order to see the wound.

"I listen," Antonio said.

Lovino had to roll his eyes at that ridiculous comment, "Maybe once or twice. And just because you listen doesn't mean you take into consideration what I say." He pulled out the alcohol, nearly breaking the bottle as he slammed it down onto the floor. He had told Antonio countless times to stop with this stupid rivalry with Kirkland, it was only going to himself new scars and the rest of the crew killed, and the ship destroyed (the Matador being the only thing he cared about because unlike everyone else he knew this ship was reliable).

"Don't be angry," Antonio pleaded as Lovino started cleaning out his wound, "I'm sorry I worried you."

"I wasn't worried," Lovino snapped quickly, "At least I wasn't worried about your stupid ass. I'm more worried about the idiots out there who actually follow you and this poor ship that just got damaged again because of your dumbass-ness."

Antonio smiled at him, like he always did. "Don't worry. The Matador and the crew are sturdier than you think."

Lovino snorted but didn't say anything; he had a better chance in talking sense to a rock. Instead he brought his focus back to cleaning out Antonio's wound which had stopped bleeding. Lovino had no idea why but he was also on edge and nervous when he had to tend to Antonio's wounds. It's not like this was a rare thing, he had been doing it for years, and it wasn't like he was squeamish about blood. And yet he always felt jittery when he had too, and he could never figure out why. The worst had been when Antonio had gotten a nasty cut on his back after saving a baby turtle from a very hungry and very grouchy seagull (he had decided to keep it but Lovino would be damned if he could figure out where he kept that thing). They had sat on the bed, Antonio, shirtless, and talking to the little turtle while Lovino cleaned up his wound and stitched it up a bit. It hadn't been any different than any other injury, but then Antonio had turned slightly, wanting to show Lovino that the turtle was smiling, and Lovino's hand had slid against the older man's tan skin. Lovino had jumped back so far he ended up falling off the bed, the hand that had touched Antonio's skin burning.

Antonio had panicked, wondering if Lovino was sick or if the thought of turtles smiling had scared him. But Lovino had only told him to shut up and went back to the wound, mortified and confused, the pirate had practically raised him it wasn't like he had never touched him before. So why did he suddenly feel so…jumpy in the idiot's presence. Lovino finally concluded he had grown allergic to the Spaniard.

"Lovi," Antonio's questioning tone brought the boy back to the present and he realized the captain had asked him something.

"What," he snapped harsher than he intended.

Antonio blinked, then looked worried, "Are you sure you're okay? You were spacing out; I'm worried the fight bothered you more than you let on."

"Of course, it bothered me!" He stood up, finished with cleaning out the wound. "All of your unnecessary fights bother me because I'm the only sane one on this damn ship!"

"Unnecessary," Antonio echoed, tilting his head to the side like a confused dog.

"Yes," Lovino hissed through his teeth, "At least once every month you and Kirkland run into each other and play the "Let's See Who Can Lose More Blood" game!"

Antonio laughed, which rubbed the cabin boy's frazzled nerves raw. "Is that what you're worried about? You don't have to worry Lovi, I won't die." He pulled out the chain around his neck to show Lovino the trinket hanging from it, "Not while I got this, remember?"

How could he forget? That stupid talisman, known as the Timeless, was the reason for this whole thing. It was a small silver circle, made with intricate designs and patterns that some wizard or something had created centuries ago. As long as a person wore it they were immortal, unable to age or die from wounds. It seemed these days that Antonio longed for nothing but to test the latter. The wizard had made the Timeless so he could be with the Immortal he loved; he had made one other just in case he needed it. Antonio and Kirkland were on the race for the last one. Lovino glared at the Timeless, the thing made him uneasy, and he personally didn't understand why someone would want to live forever. But who was he to understand the mind of an idiot and if Antonio was one thing he was an idiot.

Lovino placed the first kit aid up. "Aren't you going to bandage it," Antonio asked, looking down at bare wound.

"You can do that," Lovino answered, "After that take a bath, you stink."

Antonio let out a peal of laughter, "You aren't exactly a bouquet of flowers either."

Lovino crossed his arms and snorted, "Then I'll take a bath after you."

"You could just take a bath with me," Antonio offered, standing up, "It would save water."

Lovino glared at him over his shoulder and curled his lip, "Hell no."


	3. Chapter 3

Ch. 3:

 _USUK_

Alfred woke suddenly, sitting up so fast he banged his head on the low ceiling, hissing with pain he blinked his eyes to clear them and looked around. It was dimly lit but it looked like Alfred was in a box…

"Wait…" his mouth was dry, "A BOX!?"

He immediately started moving around, taking note that his hands were bound, he tried kicking and slamming his shoulder into the wooden walls but they were surprisingly thick.

"A-Alfred," a familiar voice called out in panic and Alfred's shoulders sank with relief.

"Matthew," he called through the wood, "I'm here!"

"Oh, thank God," the boy exhaled in relief, then, "Where are we?"

"I don't know about you but I'm in a box," Alfred replied.

There was the sound of shuffling then Matthew spoke again, "Yeah, I think I am too… That Frenchman! Those drinks…he drugged us!"

"Yeah, I figured that out on my own fancily enough," Alfred said. "I hate the French!" He yelled out, hoping to get someone's attention, but the world outside was silent. And judging by the fading light it would soon be night. He tried yelling some more; hoping to get someone's attention and try to figure out what the hell was going on.

"Alfred," Matthew called, when the American kept yelling he repeated himself, "ALFRED!"

"What," Alfred snapped, turning to stare where it sounded like Matthew was.

"I think we're on an airship," he explained, his usually calm voice allowing a note of panic.

Alfred strained his ears and could make out the gentle hum of an airship generator, his friend was right. "Okay, we're on an airship. That's one mystery solved."

"No, no, Alfred. You don't understand," Matthew now sounded like he was about to become hysterical. "I've realized who took us!"

Alfred blinked, lost, "Who?"

"Don't you remember what the lieutenant told us a few weeks ago? How there were these strangers, one of them French, drugging people and taking them away to be sold as harlots and slaves!?"

Now that the Canadian mentioned it…Alfred did vaguely remember that. But he hadn't actually worried; stating he was too smart to accept drinks from a…total….stranger…damn it!

"I'm sorry, Mattie," Alfred apologized desperately, "This is all my fault! I should've told that creep to beat it!"

"It's just as much mine," Matthew soothed, "My common sense told me to get away from that man but I didn't listen."

Alfred let out a sigh and tried to make himself comfortable in the too small cart, "Don't worry, we'll escape."

"Do you think the others would notice we're gone," Matthew asked with a bit of hope in his quiet voice.

Alfred didn't reply, he wasn't exactly a favorite among the other soldiers and no one seemed to notice Matthew, but even if they did notice their absence they would assume the two couldn't take the heat and ran back home. Either way they wouldn't expect that the two had been kidnapped and were being shipped who knows where to do who knows what.

 _It's all up to me;_ he thought desperately as he started to try and slid the ropes off his wrists, _I'll have to get us out of here on my own._

When voices awoke Alfred he had a momentary sense of confusion. Why was his room so cramped? And why wouldn't his numb arms move? Then it all came rushing back and Alfred started. The brawl, the bar, the Frenchman, the blurriness, the box, everything came rushing back and every one of his muscles tensed up. He was relieved to see that he had successfully freed his hands from the ropes.

He listened to the voices outside:

"Let's get these two below deck with the others."

"But that American is so heavy! Why can't we just leave them out here?"

"Because we can't have them freezing death out here, the boss wants them to be alive and healthy when we reach France."

Alfred's eyes widened, they were going to France.

"Alright fine, let's go ahead and take the big one down and get it over it."

Alfred heard the men grunt as the crate he was stuck in started to be lifting off the ground. This was his chance! Using all his strength Alfred slammed his shoulder into the side of the crate, with a shocked yelp from his kidnappers he felt the crate slip from their grasp and crash down on the deck. A hole was torn into the wood from the impact and with a triumphant yell he tore at the hole, making it large enough for him to crawl out.

"Stop right there," one of his captors shouted and he felt arms grab him; quickly Alfred swung his free arm around and nailed the man right in the jaw knocking him out cold. He whirled around but the second man had vanished, a second later a siren started wailing and he swallowed with panic.

"Matthew," he ran to the other cart and looked at the lock, wondering if he could just open it the same way he did the other.

"Alfred, are you out," Matthew asked.

"Yeah, and you will be too! Hold on," he tried to rip the lock off the crate but it was tougher than it looked.

"There's no time," Matthew replied panicking, "The rest of the crew will be here any second and then you'll be captured again! You need to find a way off this ship!"

"But what about you," Alfred demanded, sick at the thought of leaving his friend to these animals.

"I'll be fine," his friend soothed, "Just get away and go find help! I'll stay alive until you come and get me!"

Alfred was about to reply that there was no way he could leave his friend like that when a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his neck and started to strangle him. He jumped up and tried to shake the stranger off but before he could two more crewmen slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. Alfred rolled around the deck, desperate to dislodge the one that was choking him to death.

Through the rough and tumble they somehow ended up at the edge of the deck, the man that had a grip on his neck released him and Alfred sucked in air. But then the other two men grabbed his shirt and suddenly he was leaning over the railing, nothing below him but endless night sky.

"You're more trouble than you're worth," one man said nastily, "I think our buyers will understand that we're one short."

"But don't worry," the other assured, "We'll take good care of the little Canadian."

Then just like that they let go and Alfred was falling…falling…falling…

"Are you still angry," Arthur demanded of his first mate.

Lukas was leaning lazily over the wheel, his dull blue eyes fixed on the twinkling stars that surrounded their ship, "I'm always angry, Arthur."

The captain rolled his eyes that was true, then again that was probably also the reason Arthur had made him his first mate. Lukas could almost be as irritable as him, almost.

"I don't want Emil to be in France," Lukas finally admitted quietly. Arthur perked his ears; Lukas never talked about his brother other than where their next lead was.

"At least…I don't want him to be where you say he is," Lukas clarified.

Arthur nodded, "I understand." And he did, he had brothers, all annoying and off doing God only knows what. But if he had found out they were in the same place as Emil might be then he'd go save them without a moment's hesitation. That's what family was for.

"Either way we're going to find him, Lukas," Arthur replied, "I promise."

Lukas only nodded, not tearing his eyes off of the stars above. Taking that as a sign he wanted to be alone Arthur walked across the deck, noticing a few of his men were out and about, talking or star-gazing. He wondered if he should go talk to one of them, hold a friendly conversation. But then he realized he had no idea how to do that. He only talked to these men when giving an order; that was the only way he knew how to talk. He could talk to Lukas but it was strained as Lukas did not like to talk, Arthur wouldn't say he was _that_ taciturn. He would like to talk; there had just never been anyone he could-

His thoughts stopped when a large shape fell from the sky and fell directly on top of him and Arthur found himself lying on the deck, a heavy weight crushing him, blinking as he tried to understand what just happened, "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL!"

"Captain," one of his crewmen called and the shape was pulled off him. As Lukas tried to help him stagger to his feet Arthur realized it was a person that had fallen on him.

"Who the hell is this," one of his crew demanded, staring down at the unconscious boy who lied at their feet.

"Look at his uniform," one of the others added, "That's Union solider uniform."

"So he's American," Lukas spoke, still supporting Arthur, "Is he dead?"

One of the men bent down and placed two fingers on the boy's neck, "Nope, this pulse is beating faster than lighting."

"What do we do to him, Arthur," Lukas demanded.

He was about to tell him to throw him into the hold, he didn't want anything to do with an American soldier who had just appeared out of thin air and nearly crushed him. But the words died on his tongue when he finally looked at the boy's face.

"Move," he told his men, pushing past them to get to the boy, "Move!"

He knelt down next to the unconscious stranger, studying his hair, his face, he pulled an eye lid back to see a blue eye; despite the fact were blank with him being out cold Arthur would still recognize those eyes anywhere.

He burst out laughing, surprising his men.

"Alfred F. Jones," he smiled down at him, "You've gotten bigger."


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4:

 _Franada_

Matthew was dragged out of the crate and roughly pushed into a brig before he could get a good look at his captors. Looking around he saw he wasn't the only one in this giant jail cell. People ranging from young children to young adults, light and dark, were scattered around him. Most of them were girls.

Some huddled together, offering each other as comfort, some sat alone, hiding their faces in their arms and waiting. For what Matthew desperately wished he knew. His heart hammered like a drum and his breath came quick and unsteady.

 _Calm down_ , he ordered himself, _Alfred escaped. He'll find a way to come and get you._ That was right, despite his gigantic ego Alfred could be counted on. All Matthew had to do was stay calm and survive until his friend came. Taking a corner as his own Matthew tried to get comfortable, his body still ached from being cramped in that crate like a wild animal. He vaguely wondered why his captors would bother then realized that would've been an easy way to hide them from the public while they smuggled them onto the ship. He also vaguely wondered if he should try to talk to any of these strangers, try to cheer them up. But he decided against it, he hardly felt cheerful. And he didn't want to get attached. He had no doubt he would never be seeing any of these unfamiliar faces again.

So he sat, and waited. Slipping in and out of consciousness, straining his ears to try and make out a sound that could be the arrival of Alfred. He also tried, and failed, to wonder what would be waiting for him in France. He wasn't as muscular as Alfred, but he was still strong, and tall, healthy. He wondered if he would be bought. Wondered what happened to those who weren't bought. Wondered who would buy him, what they would make him do. He supposed he might end up working at a farm or some such. His eyes traveled to a few of the older girls that had been captured and he fought back a shudder. He was sure they weren't taken to go work on a field.

Hours upon hours passed by, one man came to give them pieces of stale bread, he wasn't the one that had drugged him and Alfred but that didn't make Matthew want to strangle him any less. But he kept his anger at bay, he had to stay calm, he had to stay alive until Alfred arrived.

 _Please hurry, Alfred._ He begged every time the cell went dark, indicating night had come. _Please hurry._

Then one day, Matthew felt the ship stop. He stood up on numb legs as men came down and unlocked the cell, Matthew didn't struggled as they tied coarse rope around his wrists, he didn't cry or sob like some of the other captives. He prayed they would be treated well, wherever they ended up. But they were in France now, and he couldn't wait for Alfred any longer.

Outside the sun was harsh against his groggy eyes as he was led down off the ship with the other captives, Matthew spotted the Frenchman who had drugged him and he gritted his teeth, sending the man daggers which he didn't notice.

The airship had stopped at a dingy old port, the streets were filthy and every person he saw looked like the kind to buy and sell human beings like they were livestock. Beyond this dirty port he could see a much cleaner, large city beyond and to his shock he saw the Eiffel Tower. He was in Paris.

Matthew saw his chance as the captives were led to an auction block, an opening between the slowly gathering crowd; the audience's eyes hungry for a new trinket. He swallowed down the bile that rose at the looks. As quick as possible he slammed his boot down on the man behind him, he hissed and cursed in pain, releasing Matthew's arm. The Canadian was by then already half way down the street, dodging the shocked people around him and hearing the curses and footsteps of his captors as they gave chase. He urged his legs that had been stuck in a crowded cell for days on end, to go faster. He couldn't let them catch him, who knows what they'd do if he did. He had to get to the city, find a telegram and call Alfred; he knew his friend would still be looking for him even if he hadn't reached him yet. He had to-

He let out a yelp as he turned the corner and crashed into a body. The two stumbled to the ground, the stranger let out a curse as Matthew landed on top of him.

"I-I'm sorry," he apologized breathlessly, trying to crawl off the man and continue running before he was caught. "I didn't mean to…"

What little breath he had collected left him as he gazed at the most beautiful face he had ever seen. The stranger had long silky blond hair, soft-looking stubble, a strong jaw, and the most stunning blue eyes that were ever seen. The man looked back at him, his face unreadable as he took Matthew in and the boy suddenly felt very inadequate, like an ugly goose coming face to face with a swan.

"Are you alright," the man asked, his voice a deep French accent and barely above a whisper, Matthew almost shivered as it reached his ears.

Suddenly the sound of his captors advancing split the silence and his face paled, his heart thumping, this time with fright. He struggled off the stranger, wondering how he could get such a reaction from a man.

The stranger stood up as well, dusting off his clothes that Matthew just then realized were expensive looking. His heart leapt with hope, he was rich! He must've come from the city! He could help him!

He stood up and grabbed the man's arm, surprising the stranger.

"I need your help," he said quietly but his tone of desperation was clear for all to hear. Now the man looked both befuddled and worried, he opened his mouth but whatever he was going to say was interrupted when Matthew's captors appeared around the corner, looking harassed and furious.

Even thought it was a cowardly thing to do Matthew couldn't stop himself from hiding behind the stranger. But his captors' attentions were not on him but the man, their expressions a mix of shock and recognition.

"B-Bonnefoy," the man who drugged Matthew stammered. "What are you doing on this side of town?"

"Am I not allowed to go on a walk," the man, Bonnefoy, replied in an authoritative voice.

"O-of course not," the man continued, "I was just surprised is all."

Another man pointed to Matthew and he clutched the back of Bonnefoy's shirt, "That's ours, sir."

"Yours," Bonnefoy said, turning to look at Matthew. The boy shook his head and looked at him with pleading eyes. _Please don't let them take me; please don't let them take me._

"I see," Bonnefoy drawled slowly before turning his attention back to the captors, "Well not anymore."

Matthew let out a breath of relief, resting his temple against the man's back. Bonnefoy laced his fingers around Matthew's and the boy gave them a grateful squeeze, enjoying how warm they were.

"B-But sir," they began but Bonnefoy held up a hand stopping him.

His next words sent a chill down Matthew's spine, "I'd like to buy him."


	5. Chapter 5

Ch. 5:

 _USUK_

"Alfred F. Jones! You get back here this instant!"

A nine year old Alfred chuckled from where he huddled under a rock, hiding from the shrewish Mrs. Smith. After a few moments of huffing and puffing the old woman finally gave up and went back to the orphanage where the others waited, triumphant Alfred smiled and continued to his path down to the beach.

It was his favorite place to go because you could spot the airship port in town, and he loved watching all the airships that came and went, they were all so amazing and different. Alfred liked to image where they were coming from or where they were heading and whether they would take him along. He'd make a good cabin boy.

Reaching his destination he let out a whoop of excitement when he saw a black and emerald ship making port, it was amazing with large white sails and everything. He sat on his favorite rock and watched the ship; as usual imaging it just came back from a narrow escape from a giant sky snake or something just as awesome.

After a while of watching he heard voices and quickly hid behind the rock, scared Mrs. Smith had sent some of the older orphans to come get him.

"All I'm saying is it's just a little upsetting that not one of those people recognized me," a voice spoke in a slightly complaining tone. It wasn't one of the orphans, it sounded like a man and with an accent Alfred had never heard before.

"And all I'm telling you is that that is for the best," another voice added annoyingly, this man had a different accent and it was even harder to understand than the first. "We can't have anyone recognizing us as pirates, they'd hang us. You do know that right?"

Alfred had to cover his mouth to muffle his gasp. Pirates! Real live pirates! At first he was excited beyond belief but then he remembered all the stories he had heard about the blood thirsty sky lovers. Alfred swallowed and scooted farther down, hoping the rock was big enough to hide him and hoping the pirates couldn't smell his fear or something creepy like that.

"What are we doing here, anyway?" the annoyed voice asked.

The other answered, "I need to find the other talisman before Antonio does."

"Why? The Spaniard already has one. Why would he need another?"

"They're powerful objects, Lukas. He's already a big enough threat with just one of them. What do you think he'll be if he gets another?"

There was a prolonged silence before Lukas sighed, "Very well. So what, that map told you it's around here?"

"Exactly! Perhaps under a rock or some such," the other pirate explained.

"Or 200 feet below us."

He heard the pirate chuckle, "Well, then you'd better start digging."

After a few moments of listening to the pirates search Alfred's curiosity got the better of him, peeking his head over the rock he saw the two not far away, picking up rocks and shifting through sand. They didn't look like pirates, they wore simple trousers and vest shirts like every other person in town.

One of them had short, light blond hair with blue eyes that seemed devoid of any joy. It made Alfred sad. The other man had messy blond hair, even messier than Alfred who'd never used a brush. Under the largest pair of eyebrows the boy had ever seen were emerald eyes the exact color on that air ship. Alfred felt himself smile, this man didn't look too bad, he was probably a big grouch but he didn't look like a bloodthirsty pirate.

"Arthur," the other man spoke, standing up from where he had been picking up rocks, "This is stupid."

The other man, Arthur, turned to glare at who must have been Lukas, "Well there's not much else we can-"

He stopped short and Alfred's heart stopped. He had seen him from where he peeked over the rock and now their eyes were locked, emerald and sapphire, shocked and frightened.

Lukas looked over his shoulder to see what Arthur was staring at and narrowed his eyes upon spotting Alfred.

"I-I," he didn't know what to say! They'd skin him if they knew he'd been eavesdropping, "I didn't see anything!" He then turned abruptly and fled. Wondering if he should seek the orphanage for safety, no bad idea, they'd just follow them and kill everyone like in that one story Mrs. Smith had told them when they refused to behave. No, Alfred had to protect them!

He could suddenly hear footsteps running after him and his heart beat fast in fear, making his legs blur beneath him.

"Stop," the pirate, Arthur called, "Come back!"

The man was truly crazy if he thought Alfred would do that! Instead he forced his legs to go even faster even though he was getting tired and a stitch stung his side. He couldn't let the pirates catch him and torture him and feed them to their evil parrots.

Suddenly Alfred slipped on a rock and his face hit the sand, he sat up, ready to run again but too late the pirate Arthur was standing over him.

"Well," the man said in a scolding tone, "That's what you get for running away like that."

When Alfred came to he let out a pained groan, his entire body throbbed. Forcing his eyes open he looked around at his surroundings. He was in a cabin. It was large with a bolted in desk and drawer on his right and a curtain and tub on the other, he noticed he was lying in a huge four poster bed.

Trying to recollect his thoughts as to how he got here he suddenly tensed, memories of what happened to him and Matthew flooding back into his groggy brain. He sat up with a jolt, only to flinch and moan. While he didn't think anything was broken he was still banged up badly.

 _I don't have time for this_ , he thought in frustration, gritting his teeth. Matthew was probably half way to France by now, about to be sold like a piece of clothing. He tossed his legs over the bed and stood up, only to have his legs give way immediately and he fell to his knees.

"Shit," he breathed, tears starting to prick his eyes, he needed to get to Matthew _now_! "Shit! Shit!"

The door of the cabin opened and Arthur whirled around, shoulders stiff and ready to lunge if he was faced with a threat.

What he saw was the very last thing he had ever expected to see.

Arthur Kirkland smirked down at the boy as if it hadn't been eleven years since they last saw each other, "Good morning, Alfred."

"A-Arthur," Alfred gaped, not being able to believe his eyes, "Is that you?"

Arthur chuckled and stepped into the room, shutting the door, "Who else could I be?" He asked, giving a twirl, his black cloak swishing behind him.

"B-but-you're so _young_! I thought you'd be an old man by now!"

Arthur shrugged nonchalantly, "Who says I'm not? Now, will you be kind enough to tell me how and why you fell from the sky and landed on my head?"

Alfred didn't even hear the last of his sentence he was already struggling back onto his shaky legs; he grabbed Arthur's shoulders for support, surprising the Brit. In the back of his head Alfred took note that he was taller than Arthur. "You have to help me! Matthew's been kidnapped! We have to save him!"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," Arthur ordered, leading Alfred back to the bed where he sat down gratefully. "Now start from the beginning."

As quickly as possible Alfred told him what had happened to him and Matthew and how he had escaped. Finished, Alfred caught his breath as Arthur looked at him with a look that said he was concerned and impressed. Perhaps that would've flattered Alfred years ago but not now.

"Well, the fates are in your favor," Arthur finally said, "My ship is heading toward France as we speak, I have some…business there."

Alfred's heart nearly burst with relief and joy at those wonderful words, "R-Really? Thank you! Thank you so-" He stopped and looked at his surroundings again. "Wait a minute…I'm on your _ship_?"

Arthur rolled his eyes with a slight smirk, "Of course you are, idiot. Where else would you be?"

Alfred smiled; he had longed to ride the Joker for years. He could still remember the first time he had laid eyes on it as a boy…his smile slid from his face as he recalled gray memories. But he didn't say anything. He was getting what he wanted.

"When will we get there," Alfred asked

Arthur looked up to the ceiling with a thoughtful look for a moment before answering, "About a month, if the winds are good."

Alfred blanched, "A month?!" He knew Europe wasn't right next door to the States but still!

"Is your ship that slow?" he demanded.

Arthur looked indignant like Alfred had just questioned his mother's faithfulness. "No! It isn't! The Joker is the fastest ship in these skies!"

"Then why will it take a month," he demanded.

"Because I have to make a stop before we head to France," Arthur said, walking over to a large map on his wall and pointed to one small dot of green, "The island of Pasuta."

"Why?"

"It's rumored the last of the Timeless is there," Arthur explained, "I need to get there before that Spanish bastard does."

Alfred couldn't believe his ears, "Are you _kidding_ me?! Did you not hear me when I said Matthew is going to be sold!? And you're going to go after that stupid talisman!?"

Arthur let out a patient sigh, "Listen Alfred, I did hear you, and I want to help your friend I sincerely do. And we will. But I've heard of these people, as long as he keeps his eyes down and do what he's told he'll be fine until we get there. But I can't risk Antonio getting the last Timeless."

Alfred glared at him; he figured Arthur would've found the stupid talisman years ago, honestly why did he ever want it so badly?

Arthur held his arms out in a soothing gesture, "We'll get your friend back Alfred, I promise."

Alfred flinched at those words and snarled at the pirate, "Yeah and we all know you keep your promises."

Arthur cringed at Alfred's words, "Still hung up on that, are you?"

"Nope," Alfred smirked coldly, "I'm just proving the point that you're going to let Mattie die because you want a stupid necklace."

Arthur glared at him, "That's enough Alfred; you're not going to speak that way to me. Not on my ship and certainly not in front of my crew. Speaking of crew you're going to have to pull your weight around here. You're not a guest on our ship you're a trespasser, a trespasser who we are generously taking with us, so don't think you'll be sitting around."

"Of course not, Arthur," Alfred replied flatly, glaring at the pirate, "Why wouldn't I help a gang of pirates while they're _not_ taking me to where I need to go?"

Arthur scowled, "Were you always this snarky?"

Alfred shrugged, "You never got a chance to find out."


	6. Chapter 6

Ch. 6:

 _Spamano_

"So, is the ol' Cap jumping up and down on his bed yet?"

Lovino had been resting against the railing out on the deck, enjoying the sunset view and a moment of quiet before Antonio called him back. But hearing that accent he knew any hope of quiet had been blow away with the wind.

He turned to see Antonio's first mate, the albino Prussian Gilbert Beilschmidt. While Gilbert was just as big of an idiot as Antonio he could hold his own very well and knew how to run a ship. Plus, besides Antonio he was the only one who actually saw the Italian as a member of the crew.

"He better not be," Lovino growled, turning his attention back to the sea far, far below. "I left him to take a bath, he better bandage that wound once he gets out or I'll hide his churros again."

Gilbert made a mock sigh as he came to stand next to Lovino, "You _wouldn't_!"

Lovino smirked, knowing how upset that would make his captain, "Watch me."

"You're so evil, Lovi," Gilbert laughed, "I don't know what Antonio sees in you!"

Lovino glared at the albino, "What the hell does that mean?"

The first mate shrugged, " _Nothing_ ~" he sang. Lovino didn't believe that for one second but if Gilbert wasn't going to say it then he wasn't going to say it and that's that. He was a good secret keeper and Lovino would be lying if he said he hadn't admitted a few things to the albino in his younger years.

"So," he said after a few minutes of watching some passing seagulls. "What's the next stop? We're running low on food and supplies. We need to stock up before we run into Kirkland again."

Gilbert rubbed Lovino's head, messing up his hair and the boy scowled. Gilbert knew he hated when he did that! Both he and Antonio yet they constantly treated him like a child when he was eighteen!

Gilbert smiled like Lovino wasn't glaring knives at him, "Don't you worry you're little head about that, cabin boy. Hey, why don't we check on the Captain? We can have a drink and celebrate not breaking an aristocrat's private property again."

"No," Lovino said in his no nonsense tone, "The last time you and Antonio got blitzed you tried to cut his head off just to see if he'd survive it."

"That was one time," Gilbert whined, following the cabin boy back down below deck.

"What about that time he got his little feelings hurt because that girl at the tavern rejected him and he tried to cut his heart out and put it in a chest?"

"To be fair," Gilbert lifted a finger, "She was smoking hot. And you were just as upset that day."

Lovino blushed, "Of course I was upset what am I supposed to do if that idiot finds a way to break that talisman and get himself killed? This crew isn't going to keep me!" It was true he had been incredibly annoyed to see Antonio flirting with tavern wenches but that was only because he had to deal with his heart break when the idiot got rejected or the exhausting business of getting the girl off the ship.

But Gilbert only smirked, arriving at Antonio's door he gave a couple of knocks, "Oh, Toni~"

"Hey, Gil," the captain's voice called from the other side, "Come on in!"

The two entered just in time to see Antonio pulling on a clean shirt, his hair wet and a bandage wrapped around his waist. Lovino swallowed when he saw all the scars marred on the man's back. He did worry what would happen if, somehow, Antonio did die. He trusted Gilbert but he didn't trust the rest of the crew who only saw him as the captain's pet. Would they make him leave? He wouldn't mind it that much if he had somewhere to go. But he didn't. Whether he liked it or not (and he really didn't like it) Antonio was his home.

"How are you feeling," Gilbert asked, making himself comfortable in Antonio's armchair.

"Right as rain," Antonio smiled, then nodded to Lovino, "Thanks to my nurse of course."

The cabin boy scowled and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, his arms crossed.

"Then how about we celebrate," Gilbert offered. "Lovi, would you be as kind as to bring us some beverages?"

Lovino opened his mouth to tell Gilbert to bite him when Antonio added, " _Please_ , your captain needs it."

Lovino rolled his eyes; then smiled sweetly as an idea formed in his mind. "Of course," he said, making sure to slam the door angrily so they wouldn't suspect anything.

"Now," he whispered to himself, "Where's that herbal tea the cook bought last year…"

"You don't want him to hear what you have to say, do you," Antonio asked his first mate. Gilbert didn't make it a habit of ordering Lovino around.

"More like _you_ didn't want him to hear what I have to say," Gilbert replied. "Are next stop is the Island of Pasuta."

Antonio nodded, "I know, that's where the last Timeless is rumored to be."

"But that's not what you're worried about," it wasn't a question.

Antonio shook his head, "Do you think he knows about it?"

"He's a smart kid," Gilbert replied, "But who knows what he remembers, it's not like he'd share it with us."

"I wish he would," Antonio said with a tinge of melancholy. "I'd like to know if he's angry with me for what I did."

"You saved his _life_ ," Gilbert emphasized. "I'm sure he's grateful about that. Besides, it's Lovi. Do you seriously think he could hide his anger?"

The comment got a small smile out of Antonio, "No, he wouldn't. He'd hold onto it until he was big enough to kick my ass."

"And now he's big enough and your ass remains un-kicked," Gilbert said brightly. "So, cheer up, celebrate. We'll only be there long enough to get your little piece of jewelry and some supplies then we'll be off."

"I don't want anyone to take Lovi away, Gil," Antonio said, for once his voice completely serious.

Gilbert furrowed his brow, "We can keep him hidden while we're there. But Toni…you can't hide him from the past, not if he's got a family that misses him, and especially not if he wants to leave."

"He's only eighteen, how would he know what he wants?"

"Trust me, he'll know. And when he does the only thing you can do is let him go."

 _Twelve years ago_

Young Lovino hadn't meant to get lost. He and his twin brother, Feliciano had gone with their grandfather to buy a couple of groceries; they were going to have a big feast tonight to welcome the newest dancer at the Vargas Cabaret.

While they had been heading back through the busy streets of Pasuta, Grandpa Roma had stopped to talk to an old friend. Lovino and Feliciano had stood there waiting patiently until Feliciano spotted a little kitten across the street. He immediately wanted to give chase but not wanting his younger brother to go Lovino promised he'd get the kitten and raced after it, but the kitten had run off as soon as Lovino got close. Annoyed the little boy had given chase but soon the feline lost its pursuer and only then did Lovino realize he was terribly lost in some alley.

Trying to ignore the sudden fear in his chest Lovino tried going back the way he had come but there had been more twists and turns then he realized and he couldn't remember which ones he had taken.

Lovino was trying desperately not to cry when a voice startled him.

"You lost little boy?"

Lovino turned around to see three scary looking men behind him and he started shaking. Grandpa Roma had told him and Feliciano countless times that stranger equals danger. So he did what any smart six year old would do. He kicked the man closest to him in the shins and ran like his feet were on fire. He had heard the men curse and give chase and the fear pounding in his heart lent him more speed but he was still just a little kid with chubby legs and he ended up getting captured in a matter of minutes. Immediately Lovino did the next smart thing, he screamed. But he was rendered silent by a fierce strike to his cheek. His body went limp with terror and silent tears streamed down his face as he came to the conclusion he'd never see Feliciano or Grandpa Roma again. But then there was a yell and the man holding him by his collar released him and he fell to the ground, jarring his arm.

He watched in pain and fear as a new stranger beat the three strangers senseless and sent them scurrying away. The new person then turned his green eyes to Lovino who immediately started crying again and trying to curl in on himself.

But a moment later he felt warm arms wrap around him and lifted him up tenderly, and a gentle voice calmed his nerves. A gunshot suddenly rang through the air and his rescuer was running, causing Lovino's arm to move and for pain to shoot up his limb. The pain eventually made him black out.

He felt numb, like he was given some strange medicine. He heard voices above him that weren't his family.

"This wasn't a good idea."

"He was being attacked! What else could I do?"

"Why didn't you try to find his house?"

"Those animals started shooting at us, and his arm was sprained it had to be tended to as soon as possible. I didn't have time to ask around."

"So what now, are we going to keep him?"

"…"

"…Antonio."

"If his family cared about him they wouldn't have let him run off like that. Besides if I show up to some stranger's house they'll get me arrested or worse. Besides…"

"Besides… _what_ , Antonio?"

"…I want to keep him."


	7. Chapter 8

Ch. 8:

 _USUK_

Arthur was really starting to regret not throwing Alfred overboard when he had the chance. Oh, he could still try while he was conscious but something told him the giant, aggravating ox wouldn't just lie down and take it.

He had decided to just have Alfred as his cabin boy so he could keep an eye on him and let him help with odd jobs around the ship. While he proved to be strong and a fast learner at how ships work he did his chores with either _infuriating smugness_ or _exasperated whining_ , Arthur had told him countless times to clean up his attitude but the brat only replied that his attitude is the least he could have when he was now a slave on the Joker that was heading to the island of Pasuta.

Though apparently he was the only one sick of his newfound cabin boy, the rest of the crew were fine with him as he helped take care of the ship, but at the same time Alfred saved his bad attitude for Arthur specifically.

"You're the one who wanted to keep him," Lukas said with no pity as he and Arthur sat in the captain's cabin, playing chess.

"I didn't want to _keep_ him," Arthur growled, annoyed that his anger was causing him to lose the game. "I just didn't want to toss him overboard. I figured I owed him some kind of kindness after what happened."

He knew why Alfred was so sure Arthur wouldn't keep his promise and he supposed he couldn't blame the boy. He could still remember the day they met. A cheeky eight year old orphan who had tried to help them find the second Timeless, even though their search had been fruitless Arthur had liked the young boy's spunk and promised to come back soon and make him his official cabin boy. A promise he never fulfilled.

"You're taking him to France," Lukas said, moving his queen, "That's all you can do. I can see you're feeling guilty about the past and you might as well stop. You can't change it."

"The boy seems to think I can," the captain replied bitterly.

"No, he's just mad. Not surprising I'd be mad too. But he's young; he can't hold a grudge forever."

As Arthur lost the game he very seriously doubted Lukas' words.

"I'm not doing that," Alfred said bluntly.

Arthur glared at him, an action he had been doing a while now it seemed, he may not age but he was going to start getting wrinkles.

He had been sitting in his cabin, reading a book after his and Lukas' game when Alfred came in and said he'd finish tying knots and checking the sails. Upon asking if he had anything else to do before he could take a break Arthur casually said to make his bed which he forgot to do himself this morning.

And Alfred had refused.

Arthur closed his book with a loud snap and stood up. "I beg your pardon?"

"Beg all you want, I'm not going to do something as simple as make your bed? Can't you do it yourself? I mean…it be pretty sad if you can't."

"That's not the point," Arthur growled, taking a few menacing steps forward until he was right next to Alfred, annoyed by how he now had to look up at the youth.

"The point is that as my cabin boy you have to do what I say and I told you to make my bed."

"Well I'm not going to do it," Alfred snarled, "Your arms work, you can easily make your bed, you're old too so I bet you've been doing it all by yourself for years now."

Arthur wondered if Alfred had any idea about how strong his newfound captain was. Maybe he'd stab himself with a knife or some such to give this infuriating young man the scare of his life.

"If you don't want to do as I say and get a ride to France then by all means," Arthur took a step back and indicated to the door. "Leave."

Alfred glowered at him and Arthur grinned smugly, "Or do you realize that, no matter how long our trip takes-this is your best chance of getting there. If you've come to that conclusion dearie then I suggest you don't squander it."

Then with a dramatic sweep of his long coat Arthur exited the room, wondering what the chances are of Alfred doing as he said instead of trashing his room in a rage.

Out on deck Lukas was manning the wheel, he gave Arthur a small nod as his captain stood beside him, looking out at the scenery, to his delight he saw a familiar looking island only an hour or two away.

"We'll have to make this quick," Arthur told his first mate. "No doubt Antonio knows about this and he knows that island better than we do."

"And if it isn't there," Lukas asked quietly, his voice neutral as always but his eyes showing an amount of spite.

Arthur turned to look him in the eye, "Then we go to France and retrieve your brother."

"And get your cabin boy's friend," he added and Arthur snorted.

"By the time we get there I doubt he's going to want to be in our presence any longer than necessary. He'll jump out and head whatever way suits him, and I won't be waiting for him to come back. The arrangement is to simply get him to France then we'll be done with him."

Alfred hid just behind the door that led out to the deck, hearing Arthur's every word. He wanted to spring out and declare a few things:

1) That bed was hardly messy and he had been able to make it within seconds so again, Arthur needing his help wasn't true.

2) Did Arthur not understand why Alfred was acting this way, after what he had done?

And 3) Arthur had no right to claim he knew what Alfred would do. He didn't know the boy at all.

 _Eleven years ago_

Alfred looked up at the captain of the Joker mournfully.

Hours ago Alfred had been huddling on the ground, scared for his life. And then Arthur Kirkland had picked him up, dusted him off, and asked him if he was okay. That was a question that Alfred hadn't heard in a long time.

Captain Kirkland and his first mate had decided to talk to the young orphan boy and tell him they were looking for a necklace that was very strong. Alfred adored the idea of hunting for buried treasure with real pirates and promised to help. He had spent all day digging into the sand and looking under rocks, staying by Arthur's side (Lukas unnerved him). Unfortunately as night came the first mate declared they had searched the entire beach and once again they were at a dead end. A fact that grinded Arthur's nerves, he had told Alfred goodbye and thanked him for his help when Alfred asked the big question:

"Can I come with you?"

True he didn't know the pirate all that well but there was something about him that promised adventure and, oddly enough, security. Alfred didn't want to let him go.

Arthur seemed surprised by the random question and Alfred quickly assured him he'd work hard and be the best pirate he could be.

His words made Arthur smile down at him like he was a silly child and patted his head, "The life of a pirate is a little too much for someone as young as you."

Alfred pouted; trying not to let the water works show. If he had to stay at the orphanage any longer he'd explode.

But then Arthur winked, "However, if you wait a couple of years, get a little bigger and stronger, I'd be willing to come back and officially make you my cabin boy."

His words sent a thrill through Alfred that made his heart beat faster and his smile gleam, "Really? You promise?"

"Cross my heart," Arthur replied, doing just that.

And then Arthur left. Back to his ship and back to the sky. And Alfred waited years with a hopeful heart that every time he grew, every time he got just a little stronger…The Joker would come and take him away.

He had reached fifteen when he finally accepted that pirates break their promises.


	8. Chapter 9

Ch. 9:

 _Spamano_

Lovino was successfully asleep, a half eaten tomato in the palm of his hand. His thin body sprawled on the captain's bed.

Antonio felt bad for having to sneak him some sleeping medicine but he just couldn't bare the thought of Lovino recognizing his old home and wanting to stay. Besides, he had seen The Joker land on the other side of the port. It was going to be dangerous, and it was going to be a race.

Antonio, Gilbert, and a handful of the crew jump off the Matador and headed to the heart of Pasuta that is where the map said the Timeless was. The rest of the crew were going to get their burned hull fixed, Antonio told them to make it snappy.

Personally Antonio didn't believe the Timeless was here (only one lead of a hundred ever led him to the one around his neck) but he had to check just in case, he couldn't let Kirkland have it. Every time the thought occurred that Kirkland would get the Timeless before him caused a jealous hunger to stoke the fire in his belly. He clutched his own talisman protectively.

Antonio and his men slipped through the streets of alleys of Pasuta, trying not to be caught by officials. It had been years since the last time they had come here, hopefully no one recognized his ship.

And then, a few minutes later, they were through the town, foliage, and walked into a field…just as the same time Kirkland did.

The two captains instantly glared at each other, hackles raised and hands resting on the hilts of their swords.

Antonio felt his men behind him tense, ready to attack on their captain's command.

Behind Kirkland was his first mate, a few of his crew he recognized from their constant fights, and a young tall man with blue eyes and blond hair. Antonio slightly narrowed his eyes. Who was that stranger?

"Carriedo," Kirkland growled with a grin, "Fancy seeing you here."

Antonio returned the smirk, his eyes alit with playful malice, "Yes, fancy, mi amigo. Are you and your men out for a picnic?"

He noticed the blue-eyed stranger held a map in his hands and kept looking from it, to the field. With his eyes Antonio ordered Gilbert to keep his own red orbs on the boy.

"In a way," Kirkland replied breezily, "And I would so appreciate if you and your dogs could scamper off and leave us be."

"Dogs," one of his men growled and Antonio lifted a hand to keep the man from stepping forward. Not yet.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Antonio said with mocking melancholy. "My men and I have some business here that doesn't require you or your eyebrows." He smirked, "I'm surprised you don't put a leash on them so they don't crawl away."

Much to Antonio's delight not only did his own men laugh but even the blue-eyed stranger gave a chuckle, not taking his eyes off the map. Kirkland snapped a glare at him before turning his venomous green gaze back to his enemy. Antonio recalled their last fight; Kirkland had said the Spaniard had worn his heart on his sleeve. The Brit wasn't much different.

Done playing nice Kirkland drew out his sword, and suddenly everyone (minus the man with the map), had their weapons at the ready. "I will give you once chance, Carriedo," Kirkland snarled, " _Go_ , or I will test to see if that Timeless of yours can heal a severed head."

Antonio opened his mouth to reply when the blue-eyed stranger suddenly gave a triumphant shout and dashed into the field, it was then Antonio noticed the small well partly hidden by bushes. Gilbert, a first rate first mate was already racing after the boy. Antonio blanched; the Timeless had to be in that well. He started to chase after the boy as well but was stopped by Kirkland and his crew.

"Didn't your mummy teach you proper manners," the British pirate asked, holding his sword to arm's length. "It's rude to leave before finishing a match."

Antonio snarled, "The match hasn't started yet, but if you're so eager for me to skin you alive…" He didn't finish the sentence, instead rushing at the Brit. Metal clashed just in time and then the air was alit with yells and screeching steel as their crew fought. As the two skilled captains desperately tried to ignore each other's slashes they waited desperately for the respective members of their crew to return with the Timeless.

Lovino woke up with a groan, surprised by how drowsy he was. He took a deep breath and realized he could smell Antonio's scent, it always reminded him of clear sunny days and open country side.

Still half asleep the boy snuggled his face into the scent, breathing in, feeling completely relaxed by the warm smell… And then he came to his senses and sprang up, his face on fire.

What the hell was he doing in Antonio's bed?

And with a half-eaten tomato at that?

Lovino was just about to finish it when he remembered Antonio handing him the treat, it wasn't an uncommon thing for the pirate to try and spoil his cabin boy. But now Lovino recalled the sly look in the Spaniard's eyes and how he got drowsier the more bites he'd taken.

"That bastard _drugged_ me," Lovino snapped, glaring down at the tomato like it was Antonio himself. Despite the grief he felt Lovino tossed the tomato out the window, he was going to kill Antonio. First he drugged him and then he made him waste a tomato.

The Italian looked outside the window and saw they had taken port. It was a slightly familiar looking city and Lovino tried to wrack his brain to remember it. He wondered if this city had anything to do with the reason Antonio had drugged him. He marched out of the cabin, ignoring the crew that were still on deck (he noticed some, including Gilbert, had left, no doubt being lead by Antonio), and headed toward the plank that led to the island. But just when he was about to step foot on it he stopped…he couldn't do this…something was wrong. There was some unexplainable fear in him that kept him from taking another step forward. It was wrong and downright bastardly of Antonio to drug him with a tomato. But if he did it Lovino believed he did it for a damn good reason. And it was that reason, whatever it was, that had him taking a few steps back before turning and going back into the captain's cabin. He lay back down on the bed, and tried not to be soothed by Antonio's comforting smell.

A misplaced pebbled caused Antonio to slide and fall on his rear, he brought his sword up just in time to block Kirkland's jab. Steel slid on steel, making an ear bleeding scratching sound. Kirkland was leering over the Spaniard, trying to force his sword arm down, but Antonio wasn't going to give in that easily. He kicked out, the toe of his boot just touching to make Kirkland lose his balance; it wasn't by much but enough to scare Kirkland into backing up. He quickly took a few steps back, sword raised as Antonio jumped to his feet.

"Why do you even want another Timeless," Kirkland suddenly demanded.

"Why do _you_ want it," Antonio shot back. "You have magic in your blood! You don't need it!"

Kirkland bared his teeth, "Because you don't need it either!"

Antonio glowered, "Looks like we're at a stand off, mi amigo."

"As always," Kirkland sighed before slinging his sword, sparks flying as they did a deadly dance.

A sudden yell made them startle, Kirkland pulling his sword back so fast it sliced Antonio's hand. The man barely flinched from the bleeding wound as all eyes turned to Gilbert and the blue-eyed stranger returning to the group. By their damp clothes Antonio realized they had actually _crawled_ down into the well to hunt down the Timeless but returned empty-handed. Gilbert looked resigned; he was used to their searches being fruitless. But the stranger looked furious. And his fury was directed at Kirkland.

"It's not there," he snarled, marching up to glower over Kirkland who looked just as angry. "We wasted our time and the stupid thing _isn't here_!"

Suddenly he and Kirkland started yelling at each other, the Brit's crew standing awkwardly, watching the argument.

"There was really nothing there," Antonio asked his first mate as he walked over. Gilbert shook his head with an apologetic shrug and Antonio sighed.

"Let's go," he told his crew, "No need to be here any longer than necessary."

They left without any of the Joker crew noticing.


	9. Chapter 10

Ch. 10:

 _Franada_

Everything hurt.

Matthew tried to sit up but the fierce throbbing from his back side told him that wouldn't be possible at the moment. He looked around the room. He hadn't had a chance to get a good look of his surroundings before…before he fell asleep.

It was a pretty room, wide, covered in creams, reds, and blues. The bed itself was cool and silky and large, it felt bigger than a king's sized bed.

Speaking of beds he realized he was alone in this one. He swiveled his head this way in that for the man who had bought his salvation that apparently would lead to his doom.

He should've known something was wrong with that man, Francis. It was always the beautiful that held the darkest intents-a rose with thorns.

Hearing the bedroom door open he quickly laid his head back down, feigning sleep. Before last night he thought lying with such a man would be wonderful, that someone so gorgeous wanting him would be…wonderful.

He had been wrong.

Matthew heard foot steps near him and he tried to keep his breathing under control. He couldn't get last night out of his head, the pain…the _fear_.

 _Please save me, Alfred_.

"I know you're awake," his voice whispered, Matthew hated that it still sounded like music to his ears.

"Will you please open your eyes," he asked gently. "…I won't do anything."

Curiosity got the better of him and Matthew opened his eyes, Francis was kneeling next to him with a hesitant smile on his face. Matthew wanted to hit him.

"Are you hungry," he asked and it was then the boy noticed the fancy tray of breakfast foods on the bedside table. Upon seeing the pancakes and sausage, muffins and coffee, the poor boy's stomach growled ferociously and his cheeks flushed. But he didn't make a move toward the food. Who knew what had been done with it.

Francis read his thoughts, "You don't trust me." It wasn't a question.

Matthew gave him a look that made his answer obvious.

Francis nodded and looked away, his eyes dark. "What happed last night…it was a mistake. More than a mistake, I was a monster. And I couldn't apologize enough for it." He turned back to meet Matthew's eyes, "But I'm going to try anyway: I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry."

Matthew found the willpower to talk, "If…if that were true then you…then you wouldn't have done that to me. You're just like the men you "rescued" me from."

Francis flinched as if Matthew had stabbed him. "…Yes, I suppose you're right… Would you like me to leave you?"

Matthew looked away which was answer enough; he stood up and left as quietly as he came.

A few minutes later Matthew broke down and picked up the tray of food. It was delicious and warm which just made him even angrier. If that man thought this would make Matthew forgive him he had another thought coming.

As he ate he tried to think of a silver lining, which in this case was an escape plan. He knew he was still in France, and he knew France had airships. He could try and sneak into one that would head back to America or Canada. And if that didn't work he could at least go and hide someplace safe until Alfred arrived.

But first he needed to get out of this house and away from Francis Bonnefoy.

He looked at the utensils he was given and slipped the knife into his sleeve and placed the tray back on the bedside table. Not a minute later Francis returned. He looked pleased to see that the tray was empty and walked over to retrieve it. "Did you like it?"

Matthew gave a timid nod, the cool of the knife resting against his wrist. Francis picked up the tray and gave Matthew another hesitant smile, Matthew wondered if he should slice at the man's face, wanting to get rid of that pretty face.

But no, his time was when Francis gave him an awkward nod and turned, and then Matthew jumped up and before he had fully processed what he had done the knife was in Francis's back and the man had fallen over, tray crashing on the floor. And then Matthew was out the door, down the stairs, and in the streets. His time as a captive on that ship had taken his toll on him; a stitch was quickly forming in his side. And he still ached from last night.

People cast the boy in the solider uniform odd looks but none tried to stop him, but just in case he kept away from any officers he spotted in the street. He needed to get in the port, but not the port he arrived at. He needed a safer one, but he had no idea where that would be.

 _A little more planning would've probably been a wise choice_ , Matthew thought to himself despairingly.

In his mind ramblings he failed to notice a cyclist until it was too late. The two crashed into the hard cement, Matthew only took a second to make sure the cyclist was okay (he was but also very angry) before jumping to his feet and continued to run. He ignored the shouts known thrown his way, accidentally attacking a man was one way to be noticed.

He finally stopped when it was getting dark, he still had no idea where any port was and he needed to find a place to sleep. He was in a more quiet side of town, and less clean.

Scantily dressed women were hovering around buildings; every other corner introduced a bar full of raucous laughter and the sound of glass breaking. Matthew swallowed; he had no idea where he was going to go. He needed a safe place, but where would that be. He hated to think the safest place was with Francis.

"Are you okay, mon chere," a female voice suddenly purred.

Matthew turned around to see one of those painted women sliding over to him; she leaned against him, her chest pressed up against his own. "Are you lost?"

Matthew blushed, "Um…actually yes, do you know any good places to sleep for the night?"

She grinned, "Oh, I know many places, many, _many_ , places."

"Oh, no, no, no, not like that. You wouldn't want me…I don't have any money."

The harlot shrugged, "Oh well." When she smiled again it was much friendlier. "So you need a place to stay, darling?"

Matthew nodded, shocked to muteness that this woman still wanted to help him even though he wasn't a potential customer.

"Some girls and I do know a place where we spend the night when the pickings are small. I don't think they'd mind someone as adorable as you joining us for a night. Just one night though."  
"Oh thank you," Matthew sagged with relief, "Thank you so much."

She led him to an old storage building that had been decked out with mattresses, blankets, and pillows, a few girls, ranging from eighteen to thirty, were either sitting together talking, or sleeping.

The girl he met, who introduced herself as Madeline, told them about Matthew's problem, the girls instantly saw him to something like a puppy and he was pampered, his hair brushed, his feelings soothed and finally he was tucked into bed. Matthew thanked them again and went closed his eyes to drift to sleep. His last thought before falling asleep was Francis. How badly was that man hurt from the knife wound?

Francis smiled a greeting at Madeline who walked over to give him a friendly hug. The other girls looked ecstatic to see him too but he placed a finger to his lips, he didn't want to wake up the person he was looking for.

After the knife had been pulled out and the bleeding stopped Francis quickly called all his contacts and told them to be looking for a boy with Matthew's features.

He had been surprised how quickly he had been found, and he was even more surprised the boy would go to a dangerous side of town.

 _But he didn't know that_ , Francis thought to himself. _And no doubt he finds you far more dangerous_.

But Matthew Williams was his responsibility now and he _would_ protect him.

So he quietly lifted the sleeping boy into his arms, he felt so small, thanked the girls for their help (and gave them a generous amount of money) and left.

Matthew was warm; he figured he was still with the nice ladies who took him in. Then he caught the whiff of roses.

His eyes shot open to see a familiar blue and he screamed. The shout startled Francis who flinched; Matthew squirmed out of his arms to land on the floor. The floor…he was back in the mansion.

 _No, no, no, no, no._

"Please calm down," Francis begged, taking a step beseechingly toward him.

Matthew scrambled away, his tears making his sight blurry. "What happened, how did you find me!?"  
"The girls," Francis explained gently, "They're friends of mine, I asked some people to look for you… It's not safe for you out there."

"AND IT'S NOT SAFE FOR ME _HERE_ EITHER!" Matthew had never screamed so loud in his life, and it had shocked Francis into silence.

Matthew looked away, his breathing ragged, "Why did you even bother coming after me? You don't want your money to go to waste?"

"No," Francis answered, "I want to protect you. And before you say anything let it be clear that I have no intention to touch you _ever_ again."

"Even after I stabbed you in the back," Matthew demanded, "Literally."

To his surprise the man chuckled, "Stand up, Matthew. I want to show you something."

Matthew looked up to see Francis walking into the kitchen, he quickly returned with a knife, much sharper than the one Matthew had used. Fear spiked the young man's heart. But then Francis pointed the hilt toward him and extended his arm. "Take it."

Matthew didn't know the man's game plan but he liked having a weapon so did as he was told, standing up as well.

And then Francis rushed him.

Matthew yelped and struck his weapon out; he heard it slide through flesh and stared in shock when he saw that the knife had plunged right into Francis's heart, right to the hilt.

Francis smiled down at him. "If you ever have the need to stab me, shoot me, abuse me in any way go ahead. I won't die."

Matthew's jaw dropped and he stared into those blue eyes that twinkled with both an amusement and sadness.

Matthew was looking straight into the eyes of an Immortal.


	10. Chapter 11

Ch. 11:

 _USUK_

Arthur couldn't believe he was he was admitting this. But he preferred when Alfred yelled and insulted him.

Now the boy was even quieter than Lukas, he did all his chores without saying anything. Arthur even tried to stir him up by telling him to do more household chores like making the bed or folding his clothes. At one point he even demanded Alfred tie his boots. The boy just did as he was told and left, not one sound uttered. And every time he saw Alfred, the longer he didn't hear that loud boisterous voice he was reminded. He failed him.

Arthur had thought it was a good sign when they arrived at Pasuta to help them find the Timeless. But then there was nothing, they had wasted time, even if it wasn't a lot of time, that could've been used to get them closer to France. But Arthur knew it wasn't just that. Alfred was still mad that Arthur had broken that promise, hadn't come to take that orphan away like he had swore years ago. He had let Alfred down.

And for some reason…that really hurt.

Things changed one morning, Alfred had delivered Arthur's breakfast and made his bed; without looking to the pirate he turned to leave when Arthur jumped up from his chair.

"Alfred, wait!"

The cabin boy turned to give him a questioning stare. Arthur was left wondering why he did that.

"Uh…um…you need to make my bed." And then he turned around and ripped the blankets off the bed, tossing the pillows around as well, he knew it was a childish thing to do but the boy's silence was starting to scare him.

He turned to be greeted by an angry glare, but a quiet one. Alfred only sighed and walked over to make the bed; Arthur stared at him in dismay. What would it take?!

The bed freshly made Alfred turned to once again leave when Arthur reached out and grabbed his arm, "Wait."

Alfred turned to glower down at the pirate but his eyes quickly turned to confusion when he saw Arthur's desperate expression.

"…Talk to me."

If Alfred had planned on obliging him Arthur wouldn't know, because then a sudden blast rocketed through the air, sending them on edges as the ship suddenly vibrated violently.

"We're under attack," Arthur spat; he quickly grabbed his trusty rapier and hurled himself out the door.

He gawked at the large ship that flew beside them in a lazy spiral, it wasn't the Matador, it was a ghostly gray; he had never seen this ship before.

"Vikings," Lukas spat next to him. Arthur hadn't heard him walk over.

His first mate was decked out for battle and his crewmen were quickly doing the same.

"Get the cannons ready," Arthur ordered.

Suddenly the air vibrated with an amplified voice, "Hello gentlemen and gentlemen! You guys are the Joker right?"

Arthur stood at the bow, glaring up at the ship, "Who wants to know?"

A figure appeared at the bow of the large ship, Arthur could just make out spiky hair, and he could _feel_ the cocky grin aimed his way.

"You can call me Mathias, Captain Mathias. And we came to play."

Ropes dropped down from the ship and just like that they were swarmed, Arthur and his men quickly fought back, Arthur keeping one eye out for this Captain Mathias as he easily fought back the three pirates trying to best him. He made his way to the helm; Lukas was fairing well, his arm a blur as his blade sliced through the air.

"Where's Alfred," Arthur demanded, back to back with his first mate.

"I have no idea," Lukas replied, still calm as ever. "But I think the boy grabbed a sword."

Arthur was almost sliced in half after hearing those words. What was the boy thinking? Did he even know how to use a sword? Arthur supposed it was a possibility, he hadn't seen the boy in years. Who knew what he had been up to all that time.

Lukas and Arthur had just finished off their foes when an appreciative whistle caught their attention. A man, wearing a stormy blue garb that could only belong to a captain of a ship, stepped onto the helm. Arthur recognized the bizarrely spiky head of hair. And by the way he swaggered toward them, this Mathias breathed confidence.

"I heard you can't die," Mathias spoke to Arthur casually, like he wasn't attacking the other man's ship. "That true?"

"You won't get a chance to find out," Lukas stepped forward, sword arm raised. "Go handle more pressing matters, Arthur. This isn't going to take long."

Mathias looked like he had just noticed Lukas but his eyes gleamed when he looked the Norwegian over. "Cute," he grinned.

Arthur left the Viking to be punished for that poorly worded comment. He made his way across his ship, cutting down any man who tried to distract him. He needed to find Alfred.

Finally he recognized a familiar and tall figure. Alfred was squaring off against a tall burly looking man who looked down at the boy with hard, terrifying eyes. Fear pumped its way to Arthur's heart, he scrambled toward the two. Even if Alfred was talented with a sword the one he held might as well have been a letter opener against that man who looked to be made of rock.

The man lifted his sword and Arthur's adrenaline did his thinking for him. And his adrenaline had him jump in front of Alfred, taking the sword straight through the chest.

He heard a strangled cry behind him but Arthur was focused on the blade that had gone right through him, and the shocked man holding the weapon.

Arthur glared up at him and grabbed the hilt, slowly pulling the sword out of his flesh as he spoke: "If I were you… I'd tell your captain…to get off…my…bloody…SHIP!"

Free of the sword Arthur took a step back, and the shocked man backed away as well. Suddenly a loud yell distracted the entire ship.

"Oh wow," Mathias crowed, he was easily holding Lukas back. "The stories were true! You're practically an Immortal!" He grinned down at Lukas, "This was fun but I think play time's over: Retreat!"

As the Danish's men recovered their wounded and dead men Mathias leaned forward to whisper something to Lukas. Whatever it was it made the first mate blush and scowl. And then Mathias was climbing up to his ship along with his men, promising to play again soon.

No one relaxed until the Viking ship was a dot in the sky.

"Assess the damage," Arthur ordered to his more able-bodied men as he clutched the bleeding gap in his chest. "Everyone else, get down below for the doctor to see."

Arthur finally turned his attention back to Alfred who had fallen on his rump during the attack.

"Are you alright," Arthur asked him. Alfred stared up at him in utter horror. It was a look that Arthur didn't care for in the least. He quickly looked away from the boy and headed to his cabin where Lukas waited.

"That was insane," Lukas stated as he stitched up Arthur's wounds. "Completely insane, say what you will about Carriedo but at least he had a better reason to attack us besides 'just because'."

"Indeed," Arthur agreed. "And somehow I'm sure he'll be back to 'play again'."

Lukas shuddered, a first, and Arthur's interest was piqued. "What did that Danish whisper to you?"

Despite himself Arthur laughed, "And I suppose you'll gut him like a fish next time you see him?"

And to his surprise Lukas smiled one of his rare smiles, "Naturally."

Arthur had to give Mathias credit, he was insane but it took skill to bring a little mirth out of his first mate.

After the stitching was done Arthur was ready to take a long nap. Unfortunately life had other plans.

"Captain," the crew member who had been charged to assess the ship came in. "It's not good. The cannonball they used was bigger than most. And they knew exactly where to hit. We need to land as soon as possible."

Arthur groaned, "Of course we do."

"There's a small ship yard not too far from here," Lukas informed, surveying the large map on Arthur's wall. "It's a little out of our way, but I'd rather take a detour then plummet to my death."

Arthur nodded, "Then let's set sail for there immediately."

But his second crew member wasn't done, "Your cabin boy is placing on the port, sir. He's not listening to anyone either."

Arthur stood up, holding back a second groan. Alfred was probably pissed that their mission would be delayed again. He recalled the terror in the boy's eyes as he walked out of his cabin. Alfred may not even want to see him...

He was in fact pacing up and down the port, chewing on his nails and looking as fidgety as a cornered deer.

"Alfred," Arthur spoke up, making the boy halt. "I'm sorry to say that we have to make a detour and get the ship fixed up and-"

His words stopped when he was suddenly in Alfred's arms.

Arthur gasped, Alfred's arms wrapped around his torso, his head buried in Arthur's shoulder. The Brit realized the boy's shoulders were shaking with silent sobs.

"Who cares about the stupid ship," Alfred demanded, "You were stabbed in the _heart_!"

"Actually it was more to the right," Arthur tried to jokingly assure. But Alfred only made a pitiful whimper and tightened his grip.

"I…I have ancestors who were wizards," Arthur began to explain. "I have their magic in my blood, I can't cast spells but I'm practically invincible. I stopped aging when I turned twenty, and if I can be killed it hasn't happened yet."

Alfred was still holding him like child with its teddy bear. And frankly it was starting to embarrass him.

"For someone who doesn't like me, you are certainly trying your best to break my spine via hugging." He tried to laugh but it came out sounding awkward.

"…I was scared," Alfred finally breathed. His hands fell off Arthur but his face was still buried in the captain's shoulder. "I was so scared."

Arthur's skin was turning hot. Odd, it was a cloudy, cool day.

"I thought you hated me," Arthur couldn't help but say, even if it did turn the conversation south.

"I never hated you, Arthur. I was just mad. Do you have any idea how long I waited for you to come back and get me, to spend the rest of my life with you on your ship? Every day I woke up thinking you'd give me the family I really wanted… Of course I was really mad at you. But that…that doesn't mean I want you to die. I'd have no idea what I'd do if you did."

The blood drained from Arthur's face. What the bloody hell was his cabin boy saying all of a sudden? He quickly came to the most obvious conclusion.

"If something happened to me Lukas would still go to France. Don't worry about-"

Alfred stood up straight and took a step back, his face raw with hurt as he stared at Arthur. "Is that what you think this is all about?"

"What else could it be," Arthur demanded. This was too much, he wanted to sleep, not confront all these confusing thoughts and feelings.

Alfred's eyes were downcast, and it looked like the light had left them forever. "Nothing, I guess…"


	11. Chapter 12

Ch. 12:

 _Spamano_

Antonio nearly jumped to the cabin's ceiling when he saw Lovino sitting on his bed. Awake.

"Ho-Hola," he greeted the Italian. He was bad at hiding his nervousness around the boy. "I didn't think you'd be up from your nap, yet."

Lovino cast him a cool look through green eyes, "Next time give me a larger dose."

The Spaniard paled and Lovino sighed, that expression left him with no doubt that he was right. Antonio had drugged him.

He stood up with a sigh; Antonio was tensed up like he was at knife point without his talisman.

"You know," Lovino said with a sardonic smirk, not looking at his captain. "Locking me up in the brig would've been more effective. After all, that's where you keep people you don't trust," Lovino finally looked at the older man, his glare angry and hurt.

Antonio flinched, "It's not like that, let me explain-"

Lovino lifted his hand to stop him from continuing. "I know something is wrong with this island. And I don't want to know what. I'll be perfectly fine with staying in here until we leave, _but_ are you actually going to fucking trust me to do that or are you going to hold me prisoner again!?"

Lovino's voice cracked and he gritted his teeth, furious at himself and Antonio.

"It's not that I don't trust you," Antonio was still trying to explain himself. "I just…I only… There are so many more options better than me…"

Lovino wasn't following Antonio's words yet it was still scaring him. He wanted him to stop. He didn't want to know.

"Lovi…"

The cabin boy's legs were shaking; he lay back down on the bed. Burying his face back into the pillow and the scent that always calmed him, the scent did, not the man that it belonged to.

` He felt more than heard Antonio sit beside him, and he was sure the whole ship could feel his guilty atmosphere.

"Want to make it up to me," Lovino asked.

"Yes, yes," Antonio replied immediately, his voice rising with excitement. "I'd do anything for you Lovi, you know that."

Lovino glanced up from the pillow, "Sing for me."

Antonio's brow furrowed, that apparently had been the last thing he had expected. "I haven't sung for you since you were a child."

"Ah, back when you trusted me and didn't drug me with tomatoes? Good times."

Antonio sat up straight and started to softly sing an old Spanish lullaby. He had used to sing it whenever Lovino had been unable to sleep.

The Italian rolled over, subconsciously making room for his captain who rested his back against the head board.

Lovino was beginning to drift off to sleep, not minding the hand that gently rubbed his back.

He was already mostly gone when Antonio leaned forward and breathed in his ear: "Lovi, will you stay with me?"

If the boy had been more awake he would've believed the pirate meant stay with him _that_ night. But he murmured a 'yes' anyway as sleep finally took him.

When Lovino woke up he felt the ship's generators vibrate under him. They were in the air again.

Outside Gilbert was talking to a few of the crew and gave Lovino a friendly grin as he walked over. "Ready to be buried in gold," the albino asked him.

Lovino scowled, "Gold?"

Gilbert explained how they had overheard some men talking back on that island, about some loot their old mate had buried not too far from there, a few miles by air ship. Gilbert had then "convinced" them to give him the proper coordinates and to let them take the treasure off their hands.

Lovino rolled his eyes, "I can't remember the last time you hunted down actual treasure."

One of the crew muttered, "Because you never helped find any."

And the words stung, just a bit.

Gilbert sent a side long glare at the man before turning back to Lovino. "We told Antonio it was time to take a break from hunting the Timeless and pay rent. He could've been happier about it."

"Where is he," Lovino looked around.

Gilbert pointed up to the crow's nest, "He's sulking up there."

Up in the crow's nest Antonio was sitting with a large book in his hand that Lovino recognized all too well. It was the diary of the Immortal who had made the Timeless. Antonio used it for his leads. The stupid old tome had only been right once.

Antonio noticed Lovino and smiled brightly, "Good morning!"

"Morning," Lovino said gruffly as he crawled in to sit next to the pirate. "Gilbert told me you were whining because everyone else wants to do something else besides find a necklace."

Antonio rolled his eyes, "It's not just any old necklace. Besides, I'm not moping; I just wanted a quiet place to think."

He looked up at the bright sky and smiled, "Besides, you can't deny the view."

Lovino looked up as well. "I guess."

"You used to be scared of the height," Antonio spoke out of nowhere. "It took me forever to coach you out of the cabin."

Lovino blushed at the memories, "Shut up. I just didn't like the thought of falling overboard to my death."

"I wouldn't have let you fall," Antonio said, there was an intensity in his eyes that had Lovino looked away first.

"I didn't exactly trust you back then." Despite the years that had gone by Lovino still remembered his first impression of Antonio when he finally got a good look. He had thought the man was crazy. Even now he still wasn't so sure…

"You did eventually," Antonio said triumphantly.

Lovino sighed, fighting back a smile. Antonio was such a child. "Yeah, I eventually did."

Antonio turned back to his book, flipping through the pages. Lovino watched him silently, realizing he was always fighting that book for the captain's attention. "…Tonio, why do you need another Timeless?"

He had asked this question a thousand times.

And a thousand times he was given the same answer. "It's too powerful to be left alone."

Lovino sighed with aggravation; if Antonio didn't think of a better reason soon he was going to have a mutiny on his hands. He thought of Gilbert below, talking with the crew and taking them to their spoils. The first mate just might have more loyalty than the captain…

Antonio looked at him, "…Maybe I'll give it to you."

Lovino's eyes widened and he turned to stare at the Spaniard, not sure if he heard him correctly.

Antonio had turned away, apparently not being able to look the boy in the eye as he spoke. "If I plan on living for a really long time, then I'd need a cabin boy who can live just as long."

Lovino scowled, "Then go find one."

The Italian stood up and climbed out of the crow's nest, Antonio staring after him with hurt and confusion. Please, he didn't _know_ hurt. Or confusion, those were Lovino's personal bed side mates.

He never liked the Timeless, it was unnatural and dangerous, and he didn't like the look in Antonio's eyes when he thought too much about it. Lovino didn't want to be like that, he wouldn't be. But he couldn't say the same thing about his captain.


	12. Chapter 13

Ch. 13:

 _Franada_

Francis was trying.

Matthew stayed in the guest room given to him, the Frenchman brining him his meals and giving him fresh sets of clothes. He had told the boy he had no servants when Matthew had given him strange looks when Francis had brought him food.

But except for meal times Francis tried to stay away, he couldn't stand the fear in the boy's eyes.

Not the fear from what Francis had done to him, that was his sin and while he was disgusted by himself he could own up to it. Matthew feared him for a reason he couldn't control.

That he was an Immortal.

He should've known the dramatic knife scene was a bad idea.

Matthew wouldn't ever be able to relax near him. Which begged the question, why did Francis scare so much? Was it simply guilt? Or was he just tired of being alone…had he just become desperate for company?

 _Then I should buy a tortoise_ , he thought to himself angrily as he took Matthew's lunch up to him. The boy hadn't moved from his spot on the bed in days, but at least he was eating.

Francis gave him a small nod and placed the tray down, picking up the breakfast tray he quietly turned to leave when Matthew spoke: "You said you'd help."

Francis turned his head sharply to look at him, Matthew quickly looked down. He didn't even want to meet his eye. "You said you'd help me get home."

"I'm trying," Francis replied just as quietly. Unfortunately none of his connections were with an air ship captains…and the ones he trusted were either poor or homeless like the harlots.

"I have a friend," Matthew said, his voice barely above a murmur. "He was kidnapped too but escaped…he's coming for me…he knows I'm in France."

Francis's eyes widened ever so slightly. This was news to him.

"Is he traveling by air ship? Maybe I can get word, tell him where you are."

A damp spot on the bed and Francis saw the boy was crying. The sight made his chest do an uncomfortable twist.

"He's coming," Matthew breathed brokenly. "He is." It sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Francis.

"Why wouldn't he," Francis asked.

"He's not dead," Matthew snapped like his host had been taunting him with the words.

Francis narrowed his eyes, "Who said he was?"

"He escaped with a life boat," Matthew moaned, "He didn't fall overboard…he wasn't pushed…"

Matthew looked at him then, with a glare so fierce it made Francis cringe. "Alfred's coming for me!"

An hour or so after nightfall Matthew found himself leaving the guest room for the first time since he was given it.

Francis had not brought him dinner. And frankly it scared him; he couldn't help but rely on the Immortal while he was here.

After taking a few wrong turns in the gigantic mansion (he never did get a tour), he finally made it to the kitchen. No one was there. He grabbed some French bread and after a few bites decided to see if Francis was in the house. He had gotten used to the man hovering around, eager to please.

Using bread crumbs so he could find his way back, Matthew headed back upstairs.

He couldn't help admiring the statues and portraits he passed on his way. Whether they were relatives or friends of Francis's, the boy didn't know. But he could tell they were well-maintained, and incredibly old.

An unwanted and uncalled for stab of pity hit Matthew. How awful it had to be, to live forever, to love people whose life spans were just a blink of the eye.

Matthew quickly shook his head; this was not the time and place to pity the man who bought him.

He peeked through a cracked door and realized it was Francis's room. A torrent of conflicting emotions washed over him when his eyes rested on the bed, the empty bed.

Forcing himself to walk in Matthew called out softly for the Frenchman. He hoped him being in this room, close to his bed, wouldn't give him any ideas.

But the room remained quiet. Francis wasn't here either.

Not wanting to return to his room to wait, Matthew finished off what remained of the bread and walked to a door in the room. H expected to see a large closet, but instead he walked into a finely polished bathroom. He wasn't too surprised, his guest room had an adjoining bathroom; however this one was much larger, with an underground tub at that for whatever reason.

Matthew turned to the mirror and winced. He looked awful. His hair was mated and tangled, his skin ashy and there was bags under his eyes. He probably smelled too, he hadn't used his own bathroom for anything other than relieving himself.

Matthew slowly turned to look at the large, rectangular bath that could easily fit three people, looked at the impressive display of colorful and expensive body wash and shampoo next to it, at the fluffy looking towels on the rack… After all the traumatizing things that had happened to him, Matthew figured the least he deserved was a relaxing bath.

A few minutes later the boy was in neck deep, hot water, bubbles overflowing mixed with a bath salt that soothed him to his bones.

He let out a heavenly sigh and laid his head back against the edge, eyes closed, for the last time in days completely at ease.

And he had time to think.

He wasn't so sure about his outbreak earlier. Maybe the waiting was getting to him; maybe staying cooped up in this mansion was the problem. But he felt guilt for even thinking something had happened to Alfred, the young man was a solider and a wild animal. He wouldn't just _die_ not when he had stuff like rescuing to do; it's what heroes were for.

He'd patiently wait here until he arrived and then… Francis would let him go…right?

Matthew sat up, he hadn't thought of that. But the Immortal wouldn't expect him to stay would he? He had been helping Matthew; at least trying to…at least that's what he'd been told.

"Calm down," he sternly ordered himself. "That's not going to happen." And even if it did, Alfred would be here and he would help. Matthew was back to relaxing when the bathroom door suddenly opened and there stood Francis.

There was a long silent moment where they just stood there, staring at each other.

Then Francis closed the door and Matthew's face caught on fire.

"Um…" Francis began awkwardly from the other side of the door. It was the first time he ever sounded flustered. "You're…in my bath."

"Y-yes," Matthew buried his flaming face in his hands.

"… Was there something wrong with yours?"

"N-no, I just, I liked it…it was big and you had all this body wash…and, and I really wanted to relax, I'm all stressed out." As he spoke he crawled out of the tub and wrapped himself in one of the towels. He was right, it felt like a cloud.

"I'm sorry," he finished lamely.

"It's no problem," Francis replied quickly. "But I _was_ looking forward to a bath…"

The man nearly jumped as Matthew ripped the door open, still wrapped in a towel and holding his dirty clothes, Matthew was prepared to leave with his eyes on the floor but then he looked at the man.

Francis's hair, which was usually silky and bound in a pony tail, was now in tangles, his clothes wrinkled and unkempt, he looked unnaturally tired.

"Sorry," Matthew repeated.

But Francis shook his head, "Its fine. But I have good news."

"Oh," Matthew picked up the other man's excitement.

"I have a friend who knows a man who knows a friend to the daughter of the captain of the Wind Cutter. She knows every ship that comes in and out, and what are on them. She'll let us know when Alfred arrives."

Matthew's eyes widened, "R-Really-just like that?"

"Well, I'd be lying if I said she agreed for free." He winced and Matthew's brain clicked and a new blush formed on his cheeks. "Y-You didn't have to do that."

Now Francis looked confused.

"Didn't I? You wanted to find your friend when he arrives, this is the best way."

"Yes, but…" Matthew didn't finish. He had no idea why but he was incredibly uncomfortable with the thought of Francis prostituting himself, especially for Matthew's sake.

"I appreciate it but… Don't do something like that again, please. It makes me uneasy."

Francis looked like he had many questions but only said one: "Why are there bread crumbs everywhere?"

Matthew looked away, shame-faced. "So I didn't get lost…"

Francis burst into laughter, startling the boy. "Merci, Mathieu, I needed that. Go back to your room, I'll bring you dinner as soon as I finish cleaning myself up."

"Take your time," the words escaped Matthew before he could stop them and he quickly exited the room.


	13. Chapter 14

Ch. 14:

 _USUK_

Alfred stood at the bow of the Joker. Watching the crew below fixing up the ship, as luck would have it they found a small island that came complete with a place to fix your ship and some small stores and houses. The crew talked about celebrating at the tavern when the ship was all fixed up.

Alfred had wanted to help them but more than one insisted he should just relax after the fight, he guessed they didn't want a recently scarred boy working with heavy equipment.

Alfred looked out at the stars. He couldn't get over this view. It was so beautiful and big. He used to hate how small the older kids at the orphanage made him feel. Joke was on them when he grew to be taller than any of them.

But now…he liked how small the sky made him felt, it made him think of the adventures to be had…the stories to be told…the treasure to be found.

 _And all treasure isn't just silver and gold_ , he thought as he heard footsteps behind him.

He turned to look and saw it was Arthur, finally up from his nap. The pirate looked awkward when he met Alfred's eye. Alfred wished he wouldn't; now _he_ felt awkward.

"I didn't mean to sleep as long as I did," Arthur told him apologetically, coming to stand by Arthur's side and watch the stars.

"I don't think anyone minded," Alfred assured him, "You deserved it."

Arthur gave him a tight lipped smile, "Star gazing are we?"

Alfred nodded, "I really like it, the sky, the ship… It's all really amazing."

He hadn't meant to remind Arthur of the unbroken promise from years ago, but apparently he did.

Arthur shot him a shattered look, "I was going to you know. I had every intention of coming back to give you."

Alfred looked at him with surprise, "Why didn't you?"

"…I was on my way, years ago, not long after we first met. When we had a really awful fight with Antonio Carriedo, that Spaniard you met. It was during a storm, both sides of the crew died from wounds, some even fell overboard, I was nearly torn to shreds. And while I was lying in bed, slowly healing I realized how easily you could've died if I came and retrieved you. You were just a child and I thought life would be easier for you on land. But maybe I could've at least explained that to you. Instead I turned the ship around." He looked up at Alfred beseechingly, "I never _wanted_ to break that promise, and I'm sorry."

Alfred's cheeks flushed slightly and he looked away, "Oh, no, don't worry about it. I'm over it."

Arthur stared at him, incredulously, "You're over it? You've been pouting for days and just like that…you're over it?"

"Seeing you get stabbed clean through made me get over petty promises from years ago."

Arthur winced, "Ah, yes, that."

That strange, confusing, tender moment hanging over them, it was something they needed to talk about but neither wanted to.

"Hey, Arthur," Alfred broke the silence a few minutes later. "Can you teach me how to fight with a sword?"

Arthur gave him a look, "What? Why?"

"Well, you're always going on about how Carriedo comes after you, and that crazy Viking guy might come back. I can't have you saving me all the time, I don't know if I told you this but I _am_ considered a hero where I'm from. And…I really think it would be cool." The last was said with a blush and a childish smile.

Arthur bit back a smile, "Sure. I suppose that is a decent enough of a time killer."

Not twenty minutes later some of the crew, Lukas included, watch with rapt attention and amusement as Alfred continually bested their captain in sword play.

Arthur was trying to be a good sport as he slashed at the young man, only for Alfred to easily dodge and knock Arthur off his feet with the broad side of his blade. He was starting to think Alfred had lied about not being able to fight with a sword.

One of the crew pointed this out and Alfred smiled sheepishly, "I was always told I was a fast learner and one of the soldiers I knew was pretty good with a blade and taught me a couple of things."

Arthur scowled as he got to his feet, annoyed with his newfound bumps and bruises he tried to save face in front of his crew, "Well, it appeared I took a stabbing for you for no reason."

Alfred seemed a little distraught to hear that and Arthur swallowed his guilt, that _was_ a little low, but his stab wound was still throbbing. "But, you may just be talented to join the Joker crew."

Most of the crew gave hearty cheers to that, Alfred had won them all over quite quickly. But the boy and Lukas just looked at Arthur with surprise; he himself was even surprised at the words that just came out of his mouth. He couldn't remember the last time he had personally invited someone to join his crew. Most of them were strangers that followed them from ports and bars.

Before Arthur could say more, though he hadn't been totally positive of what to say, a rain drop plopped on his nose and he looked up just as a downpour was starting.

"Alright men, let's hurry and make sure the ship's hull is covered them get out of this rain, I want this finished up tomorrow."

As he talked he didn't notice Alfred's fear as he saw the approaching storm, nor him dashing into the cabin.

An hour later, the wound of the ship properly covered for the night, Arthur walked into his cabin, dripping wet.

Opening and closing the door behind him he let out a sigh, "This storm is quite the annoyance…." And it had turned into a full-blown storm, full of lighting and thunder.

Stripping off his cloak and boots he approached his bed, ready to get some more rest which he desperately needed when:

"Alfred? What in heaven's name are you doing?"

The boy was shaking under the covers of Arthur's bed, apparently not hearing the captain.

"Alfred." Arthur pulled back the covers to see the trembling boy was pale as a ghost. "Come on Alfred, get up. You look like you ran smack into death himself."

Alfred wrestled the covers away from Arthur and buried himself back under them again; he made a small sound that sounded like a sob.

Arthur was now concerned for Alfred's mental health and feeling pity for his pathetic-ness. "Alfred…come now, there's no sense in acting this way."

"S-shut up, I-I'm not acting _any_ way!"

"You're acting like a child Alfred, there's no need to fear a little thunder. It's only noise.

Alfred didn't say anything, not until another clap of thunder that made him yelp loudly and shaking violently.

Arthur sighed and sat on the bed, "Come now, Alfred, I need sleep. And so do you. It's just a little rain and sound. Honestly, the sea is scarier than a little storm."

"It's not just sound," Alfred moaned, "It's…it's…"

"Alfred. Thunder is the sound lightening makes. It's just delayed because light travels faster than sound."

Suddenly Alfred sat up and glared at Arthur, his eyes red and puffy, his face still pale with fear. "IT'S _SCREAMS_ , ARTHUR! It is _screams_ …" he hung his head, almost as if he was ashamed of the loud outburst.

Arthur, having slightly jumped from the yell, now furrowed his brow, "Alfred, I don't know who told you that but it most certainly is not true. Think about it. How does that even make sense? No human can make that sound."

Alfred shook his head as if frustrated, "I-I know it's not _actually_ screams. But I…It's just…" Another clap of thunder had him sucking in a breath and diving back under the blankets.

 _I can't believe I'm about to do this_ , Arthur thought to himself as he wrapped his arms around Alfred, with his back on the head board he allowed the boy's head to lay on his chest where he could hear Arthur's heart beat-which was at a perfectly steady, normal rate thank you very much.

Alfred had gone rigid for a second from the sudden position, but a flash of lighting had him wrapping his own arms around the pirate and break into sobs, his face buried in Arthur's chest.

With a pitying look and a reluctant sigh Arthur spoke, "If I let you sleep next to me, can we both get some shut-eye?"

But to his surprise Alfred pulled out of his grip, "N-no. Sorry, Arthur. I won't be able to sleep tonight. I've never slept during a storm." He looked pathetically out the window where the rain turned the sky gray. "I'll-I'll go find somewhere else so you can sleep."

" _Never slept during a storm_ ," Arthur gaped. "Well, why? Why do they frighten you so much?"

Alfred turned away, "… My parents died during a storm… the-the kids at the orphanage told me every time I heard thunder it was their screams. I know they lied but it…it still scared me."

A sudden lump filled Arthur's throat at sight of the sad boy, "Alfred… wouldn't you think your parents would want you to be brave?" He had recalled how Alfred had called himself a hero.

The young man looked over his shoulder to give him a heartbroken look, "Yes, and I do try…I really do…"

"You don't have to try alone now, Alfred." Arthur bit his tongue, why did he keep saying stuff like this?

"… Sorry," Alfred breathed quietly. "You're tired, you need to sleep." He crawled out of the bed. "I don't want to bother you. See you in the morning."

"Alfred," Arthur furrowed his brow, "I don't know what kind of people you grew up with… But I absolutely refuse to let you be curled up alone somewhere shaking in fear." And he meant those words, which were terrifying.

Alfred stopped, "I'm sorry, Arthur…"

"Why? Alfred…just come here." He patted the bed.

With a heavy, shaky sigh Alfred sat next to him. "Because I'm a burden, because I want to be a hero but I keep letting people down, you… Matthew…"

"We'll find your friend," Arthur promised. "And besides, the only person you're letting down is yourself."

Alfred looked at him with confusion, "What do you mean?"

Arthur offered a small smile, "Just think on it. You'll figure it out. Now, let's at least try to get some sleep, yes?

"O-ok," Alfred agreed just as another clap of thunder sent him under the covers.

With a pitying smile the captain of the Joker crawled under the blanket with him, and put a comforting arm around the boy.

Alfred snuggled closer; he was so warm, like Arthur's personal furnace. "T-thanks, Arthur. You didn't have to do this."

"It's…It's no problem."

He felt Alfred smile against his chest, "You're a nice guy…" With the thunder still rumbling he flinched, but tried to put on a brave face.

"Not many would think that of a pirate," Arthur grinned softly. "Now try and get some rest."

"Right," Alfred said doubtfully, trying to scoot even closer. "Rest."

Arthur was beginning to drift to sleep when Alfred spoke up again.

"Hey, Arthur, earlier…did you meant it? About me joining the crew?"

Arthur was glad it was dark otherwise his blush would've shown. "I-I was only joking."

Alfred practically deflated and Arthur swallowed. "But, if you want to…after this whole ordeal is over. I wouldn't be against it."

Alfred didn't reply, just tightened his grip on the man. And Arthur went to sleep with the oddest feeling blossoming in his heart.


	14. Chapter 15

Ch. 15:

 _Spamano_

Dusk was coming on. The air was getting cold, and still no treasure.

His men were spread all across the beach, shovels in hands as they dug up trenches they had no intention of refilling.

But there was one member, far from the rest of the crew, who wanted nothing to do with him. Even from here Antonio could tell the boy was trembling with the effort of lifting the heavy shovel. But he wondered if the boy was cold as well…

He called out for a break and the men immediately dropped their shovels, some going inside to seek food and warmth, the others falling down where they stood to rest.

The only one who didn't stop was Lovino.

"Poor kid is desperate to please," Gilbert said as he walked over to stand by his captain's side, stretching his legs and arms. "He wants to be treated like a member of the Matador."

"He _is_ part of the Matador," Antonio said defensively.

I know that and you know that but he doesn't know that," he pointed to Lovino.

Antonio sighed wistfully and walked over to the boy.

"Didn't you heart me," Antonio asked, Lovino hadn't even spared him a glance. "It's time for a break."

Lovino didn't stop digging, "I heard you."

"Gilbert told me you don't feel like part of the crew," Antonio said bluntly. "Is that true?"

"Does it matter," Lovino finally spared him a glance, his eyes hard and defiant as if he expected Antonio to give a negative answer.

"Of course it matters," Antonio sat down on the sand. "And so do you. You're a member of my crew, Lovi. You have been for years; you don't have to prove yourself."

"Not to you, maybe," Lovino said with bite. "But believe it or not Antonio your opinion isn't the only one that matters. It doesn't matter what you think of me, doesn't matter what Gilbert thinks of me, hell, it doesn't even matter what your crew thinks of me. It matters what _I_ think of me!"

Antonio blinked, he wasn't a genius but it didn't take a genius to realize something was wrong. "What do you think of yourself?"

"Honestly," Lovino sighed and finally dropped the sword. "I've been thinking about that for a while…" He met Antonio's eyes, "I'm your pet."

"That's not true," Antonio snapped, jumping to his feet.

"Isn't it," Lovino shot back. "All I do is follow you around and get locked in the cabin, safe and sound."

"What is this all about, Lovino," Antonio demanded. "Do you want more chores? Do you want to be given a sword and thrown into battle? Are you still upset about the tomato? I apologized, and I swear I won't do it again!"

Lovino looked like he was ready to blast the Spaniard with obscenities. But he instead did the exact opposite, he cried.

Antonio immediately started apologizing, his chest aching at the sight of the boy's tears as he got Lovino to sit down with him.

"I n-need to find the treasure," the boy hiccupped. "I need to find _something_ for the Matador. It's my home-I want to be useful."

Antonio tried for a joke, "You're my nurse, remember?"

Lovino didn't reply at first, he was staring at the hole he had dug. "I was born on that island wasn't I," he asked out of the blue. "That's why you didn't want me to leave the ship."

He glanced at Antonio's face and let out a bitter laugh, "You can breath, Tonio. I don't plan on going back."

"O-Oh," Antonio desperately tried to hide his relief.

"No. I don't belong there."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, there was so much Antonio wanted to say but no way to say it.

"I don't belong anywhere," Lovino whispered.

"That's not true," Antonio breathed, trying to put every ounce of conviction he contained in those words. "You belong in the Matador, with me. Not out here on a cold beach." He slipped his coat off to wrap around the boy's slender shoulder. Years on a ship and the boy was still so small, he wasn't something to fight with he was something to protect.

Lovino wrapped himself up in the coat, and Antonio decided he liked having him in it.

Come to think of it…he had liked having Lovino in his bed too. He liked having Lovino at his side, whether they were talking, arguing, or just sitting in silence. No matter what he always wanted the Italian by his side.

He was in…

"Lovino."

The boy turned his head and his breath got stuck in his throat. Antonio's face was way too close, and what was with that stupid look in his eyes? Why was he staring? Why was he sitting so close? WHY WAS HE GETTING CLOSER!?

Lovino jumped up, shedding the coat that suddenly burned his skin. "Right. It's time to keep digging. Gold doesn't find itself!"

He picked the heavy shovel back up and continued to dig. Beside him Antonio stayed eerily quiet.

 _Calm down, calm the fuck down_ , he ordered himself harshly. _He wasn't trying to kiss you-to him you're just a kid! Besides why would you want to kiss him? Yeah, he looks like a good kisser and he's attractive enough to get away with it if he isn't. And since you've never been kissed it's not like you'd be comparing it to anything. Unless of course, I kissed him again and FUCK FUCK FUCK WHAT ARE YOU THINKING LOVINO!?_

In the midst of his mind babble his shovel suddenly struck something hard that caused the handle to shake in his grasp. Lovino and Antonio stared at the ground. Then the boy dropped to his knees and pushed the sand away to show something made of wood and metal. It was a chest.

Antonio was by his side and with their hands they silently but enthusiastically dug the chest out, pulled it up and out of the hole.

Holding their breath the two men pried the ancient chest open and were staring at…gold, jewels, bank notes, it was enough to make any destitute soul cry.

Lovino stared at it, jaw dropped, unable to comprehend that he found it, _he_ found it.

With a joyous whoop Antonio suddenly pulled Lovino into his arms and spun him around, the two unable to contain their bubbles of mirthful laughter.

Antonio, not paying attention, slipped and they both fell to the ground, their laughter not subsiding. And once again their faces were too close, Antonio's breath was warm on Lovino's face and he really didn't mind it this time.

"Oh, _please_ , tell me I'm interrupting something," Gilbert's loud voice broke whatever mood might have set in and Lovino quickly scrambled out of his captain's arms and stood up.

"Oh, no, no, don't get up," Gilbert replied with a teasing grin. "I'll leave, get back on that sand."

Lovino blushed angrily but Antonio only laughed before standing up and showing Gilbert the chest. After the albino had a temporary heart attack they quickly brought it onto the ship and the crew rejoiced. And for once, they smiled at Lovino, patting him on the back and telling him he did a good job and treated him like a friend.

It probably wouldn't last long but right now, it was okay. He had found the treasure, and he had the wonderful feeling of belonging. And his skin turned warm every time Antonio's green gaze fell on him.

"You know what this calls for," Gilbert grinned, "BEER!"

Lovino sat at the bar, taking small sips of his wine. Around the tavern the Matador crew was busy being loud and boisterous, drinking, singing, and flirting with the curvy waitresses.

While Lovino was filled with a warm euphoria (partly caused by the wine), he didn't feel like joining in, he felt better with just watching them have fun. After all, it was thanks to him they were having such a good time and the pirates knew it.

Antonio was drinking and laughing along with his crew, once in a while his eyes catching Lovino's with a wink. The boy blushed and turned back to his drink, his chest getting even warmer.

"Go dance with him," Gilbert suddenly appeared at Lovino's side, sitting down heavily, his cheeks flushed with drink.

"Dance with who," Lovino asked, feigning ignorance.

"That guy who keeps staring at you like a stalker," Gilbert chuckled, glancing over at Antonio who had turned his attention on one of the waitresses. Lovino did his best to ignore it.

"I'm not going to dance with Antonio," Lovino told the albino bluntly.

Gilbert cocked his head like a puppy, "Why not?"

"Because I don't _want_ to," Lovino lied.

Apparently Gilbert could detect that considering the snort the Italian received. "Yeah, and I'm not a Prussian."

"What's with you suddenly playing match maker all of a sudden," Lovino wondered. He refused to believe he and Antonio was a match that could be made.

"Because you like him," Gilbert stated it like it was the most obvious thing.

Lovino gaped at him, "What-I don't-SHUT THE HELL UP!"  
Gilbert guffawed, ignoring the stares Lovino's shout got. Antonio was still focused on the waitress.

Suddenly the band started playing a bouncy melody and people picked partners and jumped to the dance floor. Hearing the music Antonio recalled those times when he was younger, when Antonio pulled out his old guitar and played a song, and Lovino would happily spin around, the music thrumming through his bones.

His body tensed and for a second, just a second, he looked at his captain and wanted to go over there, take his hand, and dance with him. And then Antonio stood up and pulled the waitress to the dance floor and the feeling was gone.

"Hello," Gilbert suddenly growled appreciatively.

Lovino followed the first mate's blood red eyes to see them focused on a pretty girl with a flower in her brunette hair, behind the bar, cleaning a glass.

"As a respectful pirate I need to go plant a garden in that virgin soil," Gilbert grinned and rushed off to talk with the woman. Lovino turned his back, not wishing to see Gilbert rejected and possibly beaten. He had that effect on people.

By the time the music had stopped Lovino had finished his wine, having a good buzz going on he thought about asking Antonio for the next dance. After all the Spaniard was the second most talented dancer in this tavern, he needed to dance with the number one best dancer: which was Lovino.

But he was still talking to that stupid waitress, both of them smiling like they were having a good time. It made him sick.

The girl asked something that Lovino couldn't catch a flirtatious look in her eye.

And then Antonio lowered his head and kissed her.

Lovino's grip tightened on the empty glass, he had seen girls flirt with the Spanish pirate all the time… But he was never around for what happened next.

The girl had taken Antonio's hand and was leading him upstairs; Lovino knew there were bedrooms up there.

Placing the glass down Lovino stood up and walked back to the ship, any lingering feelings about today, when it looked like Antonio was going to kiss him… When he held him in his arms and spun him around… When he gave him that stupid smoldering look… Any feelings about any of that were burned away.


	15. Chapter 16

Ch. 16:

 _Franada_

Matthew sat up straight when the door opened and in came Francis, carrying a dinner tray. The man had groomed himself back up to perfection.

"Sorry for the delay," Francis apologized, placing the tray down. "I didn't think I'd be out as long as I was. But please feel free to make yourself at home in the kitchen."

"Wait," Matthew stopped him when the Frenchman turned to leave, "…Sit with me."

Francis turned to stare at Matthew with surprise.

"Sit," Matthew ordered and Francis quickly obeyed, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Why have you been doing all this for me," Matthew asked, careful to sound authoritative, careful to keep eye contact.

"I wanted to help you," Francis replied.

"You want to help me or are you just trying to win forgiveness over what you did to me?"

Francis flinched and he looked away, his eyes darkening with self loathing. "That is part of the reason I'm doing this. But not for forgiveness, I don't _want_ you to forgive me. I just want to give you the help you deserve."

"You sold your body for information," Matthew said in an almost accusing tone.

" _That's_ what's bothering you," Francis looked bewildered. "I figure you wouldn't care."

"Of course I care," Matthew said, surprising himself. "You did that because of me and I hate that! I don't take charity, not like that."

Francis laughed mirthlessly, "I'm an Immortal; I've put my body through much worse."

But the words didn't make Matthew feel better. If anything, they made him sad. What had this man gone through?

"I want to make it up to you."

Francis was once again staring; he did that a lot where Matthew was concerned.

"Why would you want that after I-"

Matthew interrupted him, "You did something awful to me, and I know that. But you also saved me from those men, and something tells me they would've sold me to someone who wouldn't care what they did to me. You also fed me and trying to help me find my friend. And I…."

Francis cocked his head, "And you…what?"

 _And I can't help but still find you so beautiful_.

"Answer a question for me, Francis. Why did you do that to me?"

The man didn't look like he knew how to answer that so Matthew answered for him: "You wanted me." Matthew tried not to blush at his own words. "I-I mean, not to sound arrogant, but why else would you have…you know. You had to have wanted me at least once so-"

"Yes, I wanted you and I still do," Francis interrupted. "What's your point?"

Matthew's tongue went dry. Francis still wanted him. That made things easier and complicated all at the same time.

"My point is, if you really still want me… You can have me."

Silence. Dead Silence. Matthew's eyes were screwed shut. Waiting for Francis to pin him down and do as he pleased. A part of Matthew hoped he would be kissed. That hadn't been so bad.

"… What is wrong with you?"

Matthew's eyes popped open, while Francis's words were angry his face was sad. "Don't you respect yourself at all?"

The rejection stung more than the boy would have guessed. He was also insulted.

"I thought you said you wanted me. And it's not like you haven't given up your body for favors too."

Francis suddenly leaned forward, so close their noses almost touching and Matthew couldn't help but flinch as memories returned. He was so close Matthew could smell the fragrant soap on his skin.

Francis narrowed his eyes, "I may want to touch you, Mathieu but I told you I won't. If I'm going to kiss you or have you then it's because you want me too. Not because you feel guilty for sleeping on my bed and eating my food."

Francis didn't move away as Matthew processed his words. Not unless he wanted to…not unless he wanted to…

Matthew grabbed Francis's face with both hands, making Francis jump in surprise. And then Matthew kissed him.

It was a little rough, Matthew had moved too fast and his lips stung, but then his slipped his tongue into the man's mouth and it was worth it. When Francis had first kissed him there had been a part of Matthew's brain that admitted it was a good kiss: Warm…sweet…something to remember. And despite everything that had happened that memory stayed in the back of his mind, refusing to leave.

Francis's taste hadn't changed as Matthew all but devoured him, his lips rubbing against his, his tongue running through the cavern of his mouth.

There was a moan and at first Matthew thought it came from him, then he realized it was Francis, moaning against his mouth and clutching his shoulders with needy hands.

Matthew felt warmth in his chest at being desired by someone who looked like Francis. He was an Immortal, he had no doubt met many beautiful people and yet he wanted Matthew. He wanted Matthew.

The kissing had become so fevered and rough that Francis ended up pushing Matthew down on the bed, his kisses roving from his mouth down to his neck where he sucked on the boy's neck. Matthew's breath was ragged, his eyes fluttered and his whole body was hot. He wanted…he wanted…

Francis's hands had started exploring when he all of a sudden broke away, sitting up and catching his breath. He was as flustered as Matthew felt.

Francis swallowed, looked down at Matthew with an unreadable expression, then stood up and left, muttering a quick apology.

Matthew was left on the bed, dazed, and throbbing.


	16. Chapter 17

Ch. 17:

 _USUK_

Alfred had actually been quite fond of the Joker crew when he first joined them.

Wow did that change fast.

The ship had been successfully fixed, good as new. And so they decided to celebrate with a pub. Alfred had gone, all excited to share a drink with the crew he had officially joined. But no one had told him how drunk their captain could get.

Or that Alfred had silently but unanimously been deemed his care taker.

The two sat together at the bar, Alfred's drink remained untouched, and he kind of lost count of how many shots of rum Arthur had downed.

"This isn't fair," he moaned to himself, resting his chin in his hand.

But apparently his blitzed captain had something to say to that. "Fair?!" he hiccupped, "No, mate… Unfair was when that blasted, hic, bloody unicorn….STOLE. MY. RUM!"

Alfred shot him a concerned/disturbed look. Arthur had been talking like this since after the third drink. "What unicorn?"

"THAT ONE OVER THERE," Arthur pointed to an empty corner with a feral glare. "….He _mocks_ _me_ …"

Alfred followed Arthur's finger while subtly trying to take his drink away. "Oh! _That_ one. Why didn't you say so?"

Unfortunately Alfred was extremely lacking in subtlety. Arthur gasped when he saw Alfred trying to take his drink and sudden tears filled his eyes to the brim. "You… YOU'RE IN CAHOOTS WITH HIM? HOW COULD YOU!?"

Alfred held his hands up in surrender, feeling oddly guilty. "I-I'm sorry-it's just…"

Arthur's wailing stopped as he looked at the boy blankly for a moment, and then giggled followed by a hiccup followed by him fainting.

Alfred quickly grabbed the man who ended up sprawled against his chest. He blinked in wonderment as he awkwardly held the pirate to his chest. "Uh…okay then." Arthur giggled in his unconscious state.

"I guess… We're going back to the ship." He picked up Arthur bridal style and tried to ignore the many stares at he hurried out of the pub.

Alfred wasn't sure how but he made it Arthur's cabin without incident and tried to gently place the man on his bed. "You're lucky I'm so strong because you're really heavy," Alfred couldn't help saying.

But Arthur wasn't on the bed for more than a second before he shot up, "YOU THEIVING FELINE, THAT'S MY HAT!" He blinked a few times as if stunned.

Alfred had jumped back from the screeches, staring at him with shock. "What's a feline?"

"A what," Arthur gave him a confused look.

Alfred shook his head; his captain was out of it. "Never mind, you need to get to sleep."

He tried to gently ease Arthur back to a lying position but the man refused to budge. "But I'm not tired."

Alfred's brow furrowed, this was going to be harder than he thought. "Um, okay. You're older so I guess I can't _order_ you. What do you want to do?"

Arthur was suddenly out of bed and on his feet in an instant, knees bent and arms out. "Let's go dragon hunting!" He hiccupped again before collapsing to the floor.

"Nope, no dragons tonight, they're all asleep." Alfred picked him up to place him on the bed. But Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck with an iron grip and caused the boy to lose his balance.

"Ar-Arthur let-GAH," Alfred yelled as they both toppled onto the bed, him landing on top of Arthur.

Arthur giggled, his grip not relaxing an inch.

"Sorry, Arthur," Alfred apologized, embarrassed. "I didn't mean to squash you."

"I forgive you," Arthur giggled again.

And then he lifted his head and planted his lips on Alfred's.

The boy broke away like Arthur had stabbed him, falling off the bed and landing on the floor.

Arthur sat up and looked at him with a serious expression. "Now you _know_ you cannot fly without pixie dust."

Alfred touched his fingers with his lips, he couldn't think, he couldn't move. The moment Arthur's lips had touched him a bolt of electricity had shot through his entire body, his hold body felt warm and he knew he was blushing like crazy. And it absolutely terrified him.

" _ARTHUR_!"

The man furrowed his brow defensively, "WOT!? It's not _my_ fault you didn't have no pixie dust!"

Alfred stood up, his legs were wobbly and his lips still burned. He glared at Arthur with subdued the pirate quickly, "I think I should go."

"No…please…" Arthur's defiance had quickly melted away and now he looked young and utterly pitiful, he reached out a hand to Alfred.

Alfred stared at the hand in surprise; fighting the vicious urge that told him the _natural_ thing to do was take his hand. Beaten he sighed and gave his hand to Arthur.

Arthur pulled him onto the bed with surprising strength and nuzzled into him. Alfred tensed up; this wasn't good; this wasn't good at all. He tried to put some space between them. Why was it so hot? Why was his heart pounding?

"If I stay you can't touch me," Alfred immediately set the boundary.

Arthur looked at him with eyes that were instantly incredibly sad and tear filled, "…Wot…?"

 _His accent really stands out when he's drunk_ , Alfred noticed as he tried to qualm his guilt. He wasn't doing anything wrong! Arthur was just being a big drunk baby! "Don't give me that look; I'm not trying to be mean!"

But Arthur kept the look up, adding a lip quiver to show those tears were about to spill.

"Arthur…don't," Alfred's heart was squeezing. This was getting way too uncomfortable.

With a small sob Arthur started to wail and Alfred panicked. "Stop-stop-stop! Why are you crying," he demanded.

"YOU HATE ME," he wailed, crying loudly.

Alfred was so confused, "What makes you say that, Arthur? I don't hate you!" He placed his hands on his shoulders in an awkward attempt at comfort.

"YOU DO! You didn't want to stay with me, now you don't want me to touch you and you're blaming me for your pixie dust problems!" Arthur broke into more sobbing and Alfred couldn't help but wonder: Why _did_ Arthur want to touch him? He quickly shook his head that was a stupid question. Arthur was drunk and not thinking straight.

"It's," he began uncertainly, "It's not that I don't… _want_ to stay with you…or-or touch you I just…can't." _What the hell was he saying!?_

Arthur was still teary-eyed and now pouting. "Well, why not? I'm captain…and I say you can…"

"Because I don't trust myself," Alfred scooted farther away, "And you're drunk you don't know what you're saying."

"Alfred…" The word was symbolic of a 'please'.

Alfred frowned; he didn't know what to do. Staying with Arthur like this couldn't be a good idea. But then, if he left Arthur was start blubbering again and the rest of the crew really shouldn't witness that. Well…Arthur _was_ drunk. Really drunk, there was no way he would remember this come morning. And if Alfred was willing to be honest with himself-he did want to touch Arthur again.

He grabbed Arthur by the shoulders again and pulled the smaller man into his lap. He fit perfectly.

Arthur snuggled close and sighed with content; he stayed still for a few minutes before he lifted his head and kissed Alfred again.

Alfred tried not to react, this wasn't real; he tried to tell himself. Arthur was drunk and he was just pacifying him. Arthur didn't want this, and Alfred _definitely_ didn't want this.

He thought of when he first met Arthur all those years ago, he could remember how he had thought Arthur's eyes were so pretty. He had thought all of Arthur was pretty. At the orphanage, silently waiting for him to come back Alfred had once fantasized the thought that Arthur was waiting until Alfred was old enough to marry…

He had buried those thoughts as the truth became obvious but now they were flooding back, those memories, those feelings.

He had had it.

With a determination boiling in his chest Alfred pushed Arthur down onto the bed and smashed their lips together. Arthur tasted like rum, and Alfred moaned into it. Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred's shoulders and kissed him back with drunken passion, rubbing against Alfred.

Alfred pulled Arthur as close as possible and practically devoured him. He tasted so good. Felt so good.

Arthur panted as Alfred pulled his lips away to leave a hot, moist trail down Arthur's throat and exposed collar bone. Arthur tilted his head back with a moan.

Alfred felt himself become hard; he lifted his head to meet Arthur's eyes. Apparently he had an attractive look on his face because Arthur let out a breathless moan and wrapped his legs around the younger man's hips. Their crotches rubbed together and Alfred's breath hitched. Looking at Arthur he knew all he had to do was ask, and he could have this man. All he had to do was ask…because he was drunk and wouldn't remember any of this night, he wouldn't remember how Alfred had taken advantage of him, and would never know how Alfred felt.

"Don't," he hissed when Arthur started to rub against him. He buried his face in Arthur's neck, "I can't."

"Please…" Arthur tightened his legs and wrapped his hands in Alfred's hair. "Your captain commands…"

Why was he doing this? Why did it hurt so much? Arthur was basically an Immortal, nothing could happy between them. There was no way.

Alfred propped himself up on his elbows, keeping his eyes on Arthur's throat. He couldn't meet his eyes. "My captain doesn't even know what he's doing."

Arthur gave him a pleading look, "But he likes it."

Alfred knew his face was all kinds of pathetic. God, he wanted this.

" _Please_ ," Arthur begged with a whisper.

"Stop it. You don't know what you're saying. If you were sober you'd…you'd understand. We can't…and you really don't want to."

Arthur still looked pitiful but Alfred could see the exhaustion lowering his eyes. "Will you…at least sleep by me?"

Alfred nodded; he could at least have that. He could at least let himself have this.

Arthur pulled him close and snuggled into the larger man's chest, Alfred wrapped his arms around him, like he was the most precious thing on earth. "I'm sorry, Arthur…" _He was so, so, sorry_.

Arthur fell asleep, content in the embrace and the alcohol in his system, unaware of the turmoil in Arthur's head and heart.

Come morning the cabin boy was gone. Arthur groaned as a hammer pounded a nail into his skull. He sat up and growled, he was angry, not at the hangover. He had been many, many years waking up with rum's after effects as his bed mate. No, he was made about Alfred.

Who the hell did that brat think he was? Kissing him like that, getting him all hot and bothered, and then changing his mind like Arthur wasn't good enough. Oh no, Alfred wanted him, almost as much as Arthur wanted him. And he was going to have him.


	17. Chapter 18

Ch. 18:

 _Spamano_

Lovino supposed it was too much to ask that they would leave this island without any mishaps.

And it wasn't because of Antonio spending the night with that tavern whore. He didn't care about that, he was over that. In fact, it never bothered him in the first place.

He and a handful of his men were returning to the ship that morning all wrinkled clothes and messy hair and quiet curses.

Lovino leaned his arms over the rail and watched them pile in; Antonio noticed him and smiled brightly, like he hadn't spent the night with some random girl.

Lovino scowled and walked away, he didn't care.

A sudden yelp had Lovino returning however and letting out a curse as he saw Antonio getting his hand mauled by an army of tiny crabs.

Leave the man unattended for one second…

The ship was up in the air while Lovino was in the captain's cabin, Antonio sitting on his bed and blowing on his cut up hand while Lovino got the first aid kit.

"Why must you enrage the animal kingdom," Lovino demanded as he marched over to his side, "First that stupid seagull and now a horde of crab."

Antonio smirked, "What can I say? It's a God-given gift."

Lovino glared at him and roughly took the injured hand, causing Antonio to wince.

"You know usually nurses are gentle," he pointed out through gritted teeth.

Lovino smirked maliciously, "Good thing I'm not a nurse."

Antonio pouted, "Then let me rephrase it. Usually cabin boys are respectful to their captains."

"I'll be respectful when you're a captain. Now shut up and sit still." He pulled out an alcohol pad and dabbed it over Antonio's cuts, who hissed in pain.

The Italian snorted, "Oh man up, it's only a few scratches."

"Well maybe it wouldn't be so bad if my air weren't so rough…"

Lovino smiled with mocking sympathy, "Oh poor wittle baby. Do I needs to kiss the boo boo to make it go away?"

Antonio extended his hand, "Por favor."

 _And that's why you need to stop being a smart ass, Lovino_. The boy stared at the hand for a moment, sadly he couldn't say it was a hard decision to make when he rolled his eyes and lightly kissed Antonio's knuckles. But he quickly pulled back, his lips burning. The Spaniard's skin had been warm, and it made Lovino irrationally angry that that girl from the tavern knew what it felt to have those hands touch…slide against you…hold you.

"All better," he asked.

Antonio wore a goofy grin, "Si, now it feels much better."

He scoffed, "That's all I needed to do to stop your bitching? I should've done it ages ago."

A smirk, "Agreed."

Lovino pinched him. Hard.

"Ouch! Rude…you'll be walking the plank one of these days if you don't watch it."

Lovino wasn't intimidated. "If that happens who'd kiss all your boo boos?"

Antonio put up a finger and went to speak but drops his hand as no answer comes to him, Lovino smirked smugly.

A minute or so later Lovino finished bandaging up Antonio's hand. "There, now you're grounded until that heals."

Antonio cocked an eyebrow, that mischievous glint still in his eye, "I no think chu are understanding how this captain-cabin boy thing works." His accent became much more obvious, it always did when he was feeling playful.

"I don't think "chu" are understanding how I don't give a shit."

"Oh, making fun of my accent now? Well that's just blatant disrespect."

" _You_ made fun of me when I hit puberty and my voice dropped," Lovino pointed out, on the defensive and feeling slightly silly for bringing up old memories.

But Antonio laughed as he always did, "It was just so adorable! I wasn't making fun, I was adoring!"

Lovino blushed, which just made him angry, "It was not adorable it was embarrassing!" The only good thing was that Antonio and Gilbert had finally proclaimed him a man, even if they did still treat him like a boy.

Antonio was still laughing, "And you're still adorable!"

"I'm nineteen years old, Antonio! I'm not a kid anymore!" He didn't take the word adorable as a compliment; you called pets and children adorable.

"Ay," Antonio replied, "But what's that got to do with anything?" His chuckle proved his had no idea how serious that word had stung him.

"I'm an adult," Lovino said stubbornly. "If you treat me like an adult I'll treat you like a captain!"

Antonio raised an eyebrow and suddenly his green eyes turned dark, "So, Lovino…is there anything at all you want to take back from that statement before I go on?"

Lovino blinked, what the hell did that mean? "Um… You know what, no. I'll get to be treated like an adult and you'll actually take care of this ship. I see no downside."

Antonio stood and shrugged, "Good."

He then took Lovino strongly by the waist and pulled him into a kiss.

For a moment Lovino didn't fully comprehend what was happening. When he did a storm of different, conflicting emotions burst through him. On one side, Antonio was kissing him. Not a sweet peck on the cheek but actually kissing him, with tongue and everything. He didn't see Lovino as a boy like the Italian had always assumed, he saw him as a man. Someone to take to bed and run those warm hands over, which Lovino could admit to at least himself that was what he wanted. But then he looked at Antonio's messier than usual hair and remembered that the man had just come back from sleeping with some girl he didn't know. And Lovino's heart dropped, this wasn't real. Antonio may not see him as a child anymore but he didn't see him as any different from the strangers he had shared a bed with. Antonio didn't care, and that's what broke the Lovino's heart.

Lovino made a muffled sound and pushed and hit at Antonio, trying to break free.  
Still holding the younger man's waist he calmly pulled his lips away, extending his arms to put some space between them.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU," Lovino practically shrieked. His teeth were grinding together and tears were prickling his cheeks, his cheeks on fire.

"Que? I don't see a problem. I've been waiting a long time to do that." He said it in such a calm and matter of fact way.

It only made Lovino angrier, "WHAT?! What the hell are you talking about you-you just-I'm _not_ one of your whores Antonio! You can't have me whenever you like it!"

 _Now_ Antonio was finally starting to look a tad confused and distraught. "Who said anything about you being a whore? I just wanted to kiss you. You must know by now that you mean more to me than that." Releasing Lovino he walked to sit in his cushion chair, crossing his legs and acting all regal while Lovino was having a heart attack.

The boy sat down on the bed, clutching his chest and trying to catch his breath. He was also trying really hard not to cry. He didn't understand any of this. Antonio had said the one thing Lovino wanted him to say, hadn't he? And yet Lovino wanted to vomit. Something was wrong; he had to fix this before it got out of control.

"Lovino," Antonio's voice brought him back to reality. The man was watching him with worry.

"What did you mean…you've been waiting a long time?" He couldn't look at him.

"Simply that I've been wanting to kiss you for some time now. And I figured, if I'm going to treat you as I would a normal adult, I'd take what I wanted."

"I'm not yours to take," the words came out before Lovino could stop them. "You've already taken enough."

Antonio matched the glare Lovino had sent him, and it sent a chill down the younger man's spine. "I saved your life."

"Then you took it." Unable to even sit up Lovino lay down and buried his face in a pillow. "So stop messing around with me."

Because that's what this was a big, silly game. The only time Antonio was serious about anything was when it involved the Timeless.

The captain of the Matador was silent for a few, agonizingly long minutes. And then Lovino heard him stand up, "Of course." His voice had taken on a pirate-like coldness that Lovino had heard before, but it had never been directed at him. "Well, your services are no longer required here, boy, back to your duties."

Lovino sat up and stared at Antonio in shock but the pirate had his back to him, staring out the one window of his room. And of course he wouldn't be looking at him. Why would he? He had told Lovino what he had wanted, the boy had said no, and just like that-Antonio didn't need him anymore.

Refusing to make even a sound that would indicate how much those words, that dismissal, had hurt; he stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him. As soon as it was shut he ran, past Gilbert who tried to say hello, and down to the cargo hold, where he finally let himself cry.

Antonio furiously swiped his hand across the window sill with an aggravated growl. His head and heart full of a turmoil of horrendous emotions.

Hearing the door open he whirled around, thinking Lovino had come back, but it was only his first mate who peeked in. "Did you do something stupid again?"

Antonio walked to his bed, his shoulders and back stiff, he plopped face down onto the bed and rolled onto his back, eyes closed.

"Did something happen with our little cabin boy," Gilbert asked.

"I think something's happened to your captain…"

Gilbert sat on the edge of the bed, crossing his legs. "Must be if you're making Lovi cry." The words sent an ice pick through Antonio's heart. "…You are the reason, aren't you?"

Antonio sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "Si…" He sat up suddenly, angrily spouting some Spanish Gilbert didn't understand before mercifully switching back to English. "I can't treat him like the small child I rescued all those years ago, and yet I can't find it in me to just treat him like the rest of the crew, either. I mean…"he shot a desperate look to the albino. "I'm a pirate! A _captain_ , a _feared captain_! I'm not supposed to have problems dealing with adolescent cabin boys!" he fell back onto his back with a groan.

Gilbert clasped his hands together, "Is my captain in looove?"  
The hand that had fallen dramatically over his eyes moved so Antonio could peek out with a raised eyebrow. He let out a sigh and retreated back under the hand. "I don't know…but even if I were, there's no way he could feel anything towards me but contempt. All I am is his captor…"

Gilbert furrowed his brow, "Well, that's just not true. He might not act it but if you move that hand covering your eyes you'd see the truth."

"Yeah? If you had been in here five minutes ago, _you'd_ have seen the truth." He sat up, "You don't get it, amigo… He said _I took his life away from him_ …"

Gilbert flinched, "Yowch, okay, that's rough but think about it. What happened _before_ that?"

What happened? He dug his own grave, that's what happened. "I acted like a pirate." He rested his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees.

"So…you stole his gold? That's kinda harsh; he _did_ find it after all."

Antonio gave him an exasperated look, "No, you idioto. I stole a kiss."

Gilbert suddenly made a squealing noise which made Antonio jump; the first mate was quick to hide his smile. "You did NOT!"

Antonio shot him an indignant look, "Don't act all excited! That's the reason he fucking hates me right now!"

But Gilbert only laughed, as if Lovino's malice was humorous, "He doesn't hate you, dumbass! You just embarrassed him and hurt his feelings!"

"The hell he'd have to be embarrassed about," Lovino demanded, confused.

"Because his crush went and stole a kiss like in one of my romantic adult novels I let him borrow."

"Okay, first off," Antonio popped his head, "Bad." He knew the kind of books Gilbert bothered to read and he couldn't imagine Lovino reading them. "Secondly, if I'm his "crush" or what have you, then he should have been happy!"

Gilbert sighed sympathetically, "You have much to learn about the minds of the young hearted. Lovi has a lot of pride and he just doesn't like people taking advantage of him is all. Plus, he probably doesn't believe you _like_ , like him."

Antonio let out a frustrated groan, "I'm a pirate not a poet! Besides, why would he believe my feelings to be genuine? I'm not in the habit of giving out kisse-…Okay, well, I'm not in the habit of giving out kisses to people who aren't whor-" The man gave a thoughtful pause, starting to see the problem. "Ah. I see."

The albino chuckled, "You know bud; where I come from there's this thing called an apology. Maybe you should try it."

Antonio gave him a childish look of not-being-used-to-having-to-apologize-to-people, which seemed to plead for help.

"Don't ask me. I'm Prussian, Prussian equals perfect. I don't make mistakes."

The captain groaned and fell back on the bed.

"Should I hold your hand and take you to him," Gilbert offered sweetly.

"No!" He hit Gilbert with a pillow.

"Alright, alright, fine! Then should I get Lovino to come back in here so you can apologize?"

Antonio stood up and straightened his attire, a plan forming in his head that just might work if he didn't screw it up.

"Just tell him he's relieved of his supper kitchen duty and will be dining with me tonight."


	18. Chapter 19

Ch. 19:

 _Franada_

What was he doing? Why couldn't he think straight?

It had just been one little kiss, why couldn't Matthew stop thinking about it?

There had been such a longing in that kiss, a longing Matthew couldn't ignore. It reminded him of how Francis was an Immortal and destined to be alone. It reminded him of how alone he had felt as a child, with only his sickly mother for company. Growing up without a friend in the world, Alfred had filled that void, but meeting Francis reminded Matthew of another void that been left empty. It was louder, it demanded attention, it demanded release.

Matthew crawled out of the bed, a full moon casting its glow out of the window, allowing him enough light to lead him to the door. He tried not to think too much as he made his way down the hall and into Francis's room.

The moon light illuminated the room, showing a body lying on the bed. Walking to it Matthew saw that he was asleep, he sat down next to the bed, his eyes focused on Francis, his face partially covered by his long hair…

Matthew undid his trousers and touched himself, watching Francis as his hand went up and down. As eh did so his mind wandered, back to when Francis was kissing him, lying over him. He imagined the two walking through the Paris streets, both women and men sending Francis lusty, inviting looks, but the man only had eyes for Matthew. Average, everyday, Matthew…

When they returned to the mansion he was smothered in kisses, caressed by the softest touches, stripped and gazed at like he was the most beautiful piece of art.

And this time it didn't hurt when Francis took him, it felt wonderful and Francis gazed at him with such adoration, like this was better for him than even Matthew. And that was because, as he said-he _wanted_ Matthew.

The young man buried his head into his arm as he climaxed, his other hand becoming wet and hot.

When he caught his breath he raised his head to meet Francis's blue eyes. "Mathieu," he sighed, "What are you doing?"

.

Francis looked like a Greek god without his clothes.

Matthew, just as nude, sat on the bed with him, tasting him as their tongues danced against each other. They clutched each other as if they would vanish if either let go.

Matthew ran his fingers down Francis's torso, admiring the muscles and fine hairs that decorated his chest. His erection had already returned.

They pulled their lips away to catch their breath. Matthew wrapped his arms around Francis's neck, nuzzling against the man's cheek.

"I want…" he breathed against his skin. "I want you."

He could feel Francis's hesitation and Matthew tightened his grip. "I don't think you're a bad person, Francis. You've just had a very long, very bad life that has caused you to make mistakes."

"Are you sure," Francis's voice shook. "Are you sure I'm good enough."

Matthew nodded.

Francis pulled away and pulled out a jar from the bedside table. It was oil.

"I should've prepared you last time." He handed Matthew the jaw who dipped two fingers in, then, aware of Francis's eyes on him, started to stretch himself.

It wasn't a nice sensation but it wasn't bad either. And the look on Francis's face made his whole body hot.

Francis rubbed oil over his member; he wanted to make sure Matthew hurt as little as possible.

A minute or so later Matthew pulled his fingers out, "I think I'm ready."

Francis nodded, "You can sit on my lap. So in case you change your mind, you can pull out."

Matthew positioned himself over Francis, and slowly lowered himself down. His breath caught at the fell of the tip against him, Francis's eyes were worried but his body relaxed. Though Matthew was sure he was ready to jump out of bed if Matthew changed his mind.

He forced himself to keep going, feeling so full as he took Francis in. "It's in," Francis breathed, his eyes and cheeks dark. "It's all in."

"H-How does it feel," Matthew asked, his hands clutching the man's shoulders, too anxious to move.

"It feels amazing," Francis breathed, his gaze adoring. He leaned forward so their foreheads touched, "Thank you."

Matthew nodded, his eyes welling up.

"Try to move," Francis advised, "There's no point to this unless you feel good too."

Matthew obeyed, slightly rocking his hips, it felt tight. Francis took a sharp intake of breath, proving he was having no problems with feeling any pleasure.

The Frenchman hesitantly, questioningly, traced his finger tips over Matthew's hips. He finally grabbed him in a firm grip and pushed him down.

And that's when it happened.

Matthew arced his back and moaned as the man's member hit a bundle of nerves, releasing one of the strongest, most pleasurable, sensations he's ever felt in his life.

Francis smiled as Matthew started to rock against him more enthusiastically, continuing to hit that same spot and moaning every time. He held the boy in his arms tightly; both noticed how the other's skin was becoming damp.

"Oh, God, Francis," Matthew moaned into his neck, "Right there…please."

Francis rocked harder against him, so much so Matthew was sure he'd be sore afterwards but he didn't care. Because right now, this was perfect, he in Francis's arms, Francis _in_ him. He doubted it would have felt the same with anyone else. Just Francis, it had to be Francis Bonnefoy.

Matthew let out a cry as his climax shook him to his core and he came across them both. A few more thrusts and Francis did the same, falling down back onto the pillows where Matthew laid across him.

"How…how was that, Mathieu," Francis asked, "Did it feel good?"

Matthew nodded against his sweat-soaked chest, "Yes. It felt really good."

Exhaustion settled in and he fell asleep with Francis's fingers in his hair and his heart beat in his ear.


	19. Chapter 20

Ch. 20:

 _USUK_

Alfred was avoiding him. It was painfully obvious, no matter what he was doing, if he saw Arthur he quickly turned the other way. He actually missed a meal once because Arthur decided to eat with his crew. True, Arthur could simply order him to come tidy up his cabin that would get them in each other's presence. But Arthur already had a plan, and he was waiting until he was ready. He was going to make sure.

His opinion of Alfred, the way he viewed the young lad, had changed at some point during the trip and he wasn't sure when. Though he imagined it was around the time Alfred had hugged him back when Arthur had traumatized him with that blocking the sword fiasco.

He was coming to the realization Alfred wasn't the boy he had known all those years ago. Well of course he had realized that when the boy fell on top of him. But he hadn't noticed it mentally, hadn't realized how truly grown he was, how tall and muscular, how drop dead gorgeous.

That bloody kiss, it had made him a mad man; it was all Arthur could think about, that and how he longed to do more than innocent kissing. It was a huge mistake and the best thing he had ever done at the same time. And he was going to kiss the boy again; he was going to have him on his bed moaning and naked. And considering how he blushed every time Arthur looked at him now, he was going to make the virgin a man too.

That night he waited in his room, sitting on his bed in his most seductive looking of clothing, legs crossed and trying to look as regal and sexy as possible. He had asked a crew member to fetch the boy, pretending he had chores to do.

And just like he had guessed Alfred did appear, just not meeting Arthur's eyes.

"Sorry, Arthur, I didn't mean to take so long," Alfred apologized as he shut the door behind him.

"Alfred is there…something you need to tell me," he asked with a vixen's grin.

Alfred turned his eyes to the ceiling and seemed to ponder that question, "I don't _think_ so? Did I do something wrong?"

Arthur cocked a brow, what an oblivious little virgin. He stood up, "No, actually, you've done something very right." He approached the boy. "And I want you to do it again."

Alfred finally met his smoldering green eyes, taking a step back with a flush coming to his cheeks, "Uh…what did I do?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, fed up, "And I thought the drunk one was supposed to be the one who didn't remember."

There was a moment of silence that lasted too long before Alfred paled, followed by his entire face turning crimson. "Y-y-y-you…"

"Yes, you git, I remember. Now do it again."

Alfred covered his mouth as if Arthur was going to attack it, "I can't!"

"Well, why not," Arthur demanded with annoyance. "You had no problem before."

"T-That time-it was…it was a mistake!"

Arthur furrowed his brow, "That's not very nice. You seemed to like it just as much as me."

Alfred whirled around so his back was to Arthur, "Please stop talking."

"I will not," Arthur said, overflowing with exasperation. "And if you won't give me anything then I shall have to take it!"

He grabbed Alfred by the arm and forcefully turned him around but before he could plant a kiss Alfred pushed him away, knocking him to the floor. Alfred took a step back and crashed into the wall and slid down to the floor. "STOP IT ARTHUR! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!" There were tears now, glistening in his eyes and his bottom lip quaking.

As fast as he is down Arthur is up again, "No, no, it isn't! Why must you be so difficult? It's not like I'm trying to hurt you!"

"You might not try, but you will."

Arthur was baffled. What the bloody hell was he talking about? He looked around the cabin and his brain clicked. "I'm sensing a hit at me being a pirate. I promise, I'm not offended of that. I am, however, offended that you believe I would hurt you."

Alfred hung his head, "I don't think you'd do it on purpose, Arthur. But you would…" His voice was hollow.

"Alfred…" he extended his hand out to the younger man. "Won't you trust me?"

Alfred stared at the hand, and then at Arthur's eyes, heart thumping, face flushed. He swallowed and then with a shaking hand reached out to graze Arthur's finger tips.

Slowly, testing, Arthur pulled himself closer, wrapping Alfred's arm around his back, he kept their eyes locked.

Alfred was breathing fast, like he couldn't get enough air. He stretched his other arm up to trace Arthur's jaw.

Arthur's heart rate and breathing increased; with his free hand he ran his fingers through Alfred's hair. Alfred lifted his head up to touch Arthur's lips with his own, eyes half-closed, his grip around Arthur's back tightened.

"…I'm scared, Arthur…"

"Don't be," Arthur pressed their lips together; even sober he still found Alfred's taste addicting.

Alfred pressed his lips harder against Arthur's and opened his mouth, Arthur moaned and melted into the kiss, throwing his arms around the taller man's neck and exploring his mouth. What a treasure hunt.

As they continued to kiss feverishly Alfred pulled him both to their feet and pushed Arthur toward his bed. And Arthur let him, taking steps back. Alfred pushed him down onto the bed roughly, breaks the kiss, he was breathing fast and his lips were red. "This is what you want, isn't it?" His question sounded feral, almost threatening.

But Arthur only gripped Alfred's shirt, "More than anything."

Alfred's eyes widened, as if that wasn't the answer he expected, his lids lowered as his eyes go dark. He brought his mouth down to leave a hot moist trail down Arthur's throat.

Arthur tilted his head back with a breathy moan.

As he kept kissing the man's neck Alfred started to unbutton the pirate's shirt, undoing it he pulled away and turned his eyes on Arthur's now bare chest and torso, which was covered in scars and tattoos.

"Ah, yes," Arthur looked down at his chest with pride and a dry chuckle. "The marks of a captain…"

"Does it hurt," Arthur trailed his fingers over his belly.

"Not anymore."

Alfred's roaming fingers stopped at a scar close to Arthur's heart, where the Viking's sword had plunged through him. A deep sadness washed over the boy's face.

Arthur placed his hand over the boy's hand, meeting his eyes, "Even if I had died... It would have been worth it." He was surprised to realize he wasn't lying.

With an overwhelmed expression Alfred pulled him back into a kiss that was rougher than necessary, but it was a roughness Arthur enjoyed.

Alfred fondled the man's chest as they kissed, his fingers pinching the man's nipple, causing Arthur to let out a moaned whimper. He felt his face grow hot from the un-captain like sound. But Alfred only smiled against his lips before turning to kiss his chest, a majority of his attention on the scar at his heart.

Finally Alfred sat up and started to take off his own shirt, which took a certain amount of time as Arthur had let him borrow clothes when he got onto the ship (less out of charity and more out of he had the largest wardrobe of the crew). When he finally tossed his shirt aside, revealing a glorious and wide chest, he trailed his lips down Arthur's torso and stopped where Arthur's trousers began.

Arthur's breath hitched, he had lain with other men and women before and it was usually him in Alfred's place. He wondered if had had the same, maddening effect on them. "Don't be a tease, love," he practically begged.

He saw Alfred's Adam's apple bob before he pulled the pirate's trousers down, laying him bare.

Arthur felt a strange bashfulness he hadn't felt since he was a wet-behind-the-ears virgin.

Alfred hesitantly touched his tongue to Arthur's tip. The Brit moaned and stiffened, that was barely a touch and yet it had felt glorious.

Alfred, persuaded by the reaction, grabbed Arthur's cock and took it into his mouth. Arthur moaned and grabbed fistfuls of Alfred's hair, tugging lightly. Alfred started sucking, moans rising from his throat.

Arthur lifted a leg to graze Alfred's center. The boy nearly choked at the contact and released Arthur's member, pearly liquid dripping from his lips as he caught his breath.

Arthur slid down to be at eye level with him before capturing their lips together again and kneading him with a hand.

Alfred was making the most delicious of noises as he grinded into Arthur's hand, he was so hard. Arthur started to undo the buttons of Alfred's pants, slipping his hand under the fabric. Alfred let out a sharp cry and buried his head in Arthur's shoulder, his nails digging into the older man's arms.

Arthur gasped initially at the reaction, then smiled and continued to work his hand under the fabric, eventually sliding Alfred free of his pants.

Now nude Alfred whispered, "A-Arthur…"

"Yes?"

He pushed the pirate back down onto the bed, pulling the rest of the pirate's trousers off and tossing it onto the floor with the rest of their clothes. "I…I want to…"

Arthur became visibly unsure. He still wanted to shag the boy senseless but he wasn't so sure about being the bottom of this scenario, he had never done so before.

Alfred noticed Arthur's' uncertainty and he quickly pulled away, his face flushed as he looked away which decided Arthur's mind.

"No, I-I'm sorry. I don't mean to…I just don't…I…" he sighed and collected himself, "I've never exactly been in this position."

Alfred turned his blue eyes back to him, "What position?"

Arthur grabbed his arms and pulled, putting Alfred on all fours above him, "This one you git." It was his turn to look away with a blush, hoping Alfred understood the problem without words.

"Oh," Alfred replied at last, "You're scared."

Arthur was indignant, "N-no! I'm not scared! I…" he sighed and curled into himself, sitting up and facing off to the side, he can't believe he was going to have a heart to heart when there was shagging to do. "I've never, never given something to someone that I couldn't take back…I've never trusted someone with part of me, not like this."

Alfred suddenly leaned forward to graze Arthur's ear with his lips, "Could you ever trust me?"

Arthur let out a chuckle that bordered on hysteria, offering the boy a smile. _That's just it_ , he thought to himself, _I think my heart already does_. When had that happened?

Arthur lay back down and spread his thighs apart in open invitation, he didn't want to talk about pleasure he wanted to experience it. He handed Alfred a bottle of clear liquid he had kept by his bed and the boy, starting to get just as impatient, didn't waste anytime in stretching him.

When Arthur declared he was ready Alfred lifted the man's leg up and slowly started to enter him.

Arthur couldn't help a short cry at the unfamiliar feeling; he didn't realize how big Alfred really was, or how hot it was. But he forced himself to relax. He wanted this.

"S-sorry," Alfred breathed heavily as he started to thrust, "Can't-stop-"

Arthur dug his nails into the man's broad shoulders, but he was starting to get used to the tightness, and it was starting to feel good…

Alfred's cock was becoming wet with pre-cum as he moved faster, leaning down to kiss Arthur's chest. Arthur held him with needing, and moaned his name.

"A-Arthur," his voice was a breathless rasp as he continually grinded into him, holdings Arthur by his shoulders.

There was a look in the cabin boy's blue eyes that Arthur had never seen before, and he really, _really_ , liked it. He leaned up to nip Alfred's neck who groaned at the feeling and pulled Arthur closer, making the pirate practically sit on his erection.

Arthur let out a gasped moan, "A- _Alfred_!"

He continued rubbing against his captain, "Arthur…" his voice was a breathy murmur as he trailed his lips across Arthur's sweat soaked neck. Arthur ran his fingers through Alfred's hair and kissed him.

They fell back onto the bed as Alfred moved harder and faster, the feeling in Arthur's pelvis escalating.

"I-I'm going to," Alfred couldn't finish the sentence and started to pull out.

"N-no," Arthur cried, wrapping his legs around Alfred, holding him close and gave him a look that he hoped showed the feelings he couldn't bare to say.

It must've worked as Alfred gazed at him with a shocked yet touched expression before he came. He buried his head in Arthur's heart to muffle his cry/moan. Arthur moaned as well and shuddered his release shortly after.

They laid intertwined, out of breath, for how long Arthur did not know. Finally Alfred pulled out, cum dripping out of the Brit and onto the sheets.

He laid over Arthur and cupped his cheeks with both hands, and just stared at him. His blue eyes were damp with emotion and a surge of strong affection buried Arthur and he knew he was a goner.

"Alfred," he ran a hand through Alfred's hair. "I'm not sure what I feel right now… But I don't want it to fade…"

Alfred smiled.


	20. Chapter 21

Ch. 21:

 _Spamano_

For the hundredth time Antonio checked the dinner over. It was one of his better meals, as he considered himself a fantastic cook. He had found an old but classy two person table down in the cargo hold and had brought it into his cabin. He had thought about adding candles but didn't want to risk them falling and starting a fire.

He finally sat down on the bed and started to flip a coin he found in his pocket, with his free hand he rubbed his fingers through his hair, wondering if it was too fixed up. Maybe messy would work better for him.

There was a loud throat clearing and then someone knocked at the door, dropping the coin Antonio sprang to his feet and practically jumped to the door, swinging it open. He ignored the apprehension fluttering in his stomach as he spoke: "Hola." He took a step back, "Please, come in."

It was an understatement to say Lovino looked suspicious as he walked into the cabin, taking in the romantic setting. He muttered something and the Spaniard thought he had heard the word 'Gilbert'.

Feeling the awkward atmosphere Antonio rushed over to pull out a chair for the Italian who sat down stiffly. He was making an obvious effort to stay as far away from Antonio as possible.

Antonio pushed him up to the table before walking to his side and grabbing a bottle of wine he had saved on a whimsy. He poured Lovino a glass before doing the same for himself and sitting down across from him.

Lovino took his glass, and after giving it a wary sniff (no doubt his mind remembering the tomato), took a sip. Apparently the drink was up to his taste because he immediately took another, larger sip.

Antonio tried his own glass before placing it back down with enough force for the dishes to let out a metal ring, angrily resolving to himself that a captain should not show his awkward.

Lovino had jumped slightly at the force and quickly put his own goblet down, as if he thought taking a drink had angered the older man.

Antonio inhaled, "Lovino…about earlier today." He met the younger man's eyes, there were wide and unreadable. "I won't say I'm sorry. Because I'm not…I really have been wanting to do that. However, it is not merely because you're attractive or anything so superficial…there's no denying that I hold feeling for you, Lovino." His eyes fell onto his glass; his heart was beating so fast it actually hurt. He had finally said it, the thoughts-the words that had been plaguing him for quite some time now.

But all Lovino said was "Ah."

Antonio bit his lip, frustrated. What did he expect, for Lovino to return his confession and leap into his arms? "I am sorry however for…for you being _here_."

Lovino only nodded and took another sip.

Lovino furrowed his brow and returned to staring at his wine. "I'm not the best with words but…I, I know I can't treat you like the child from so long ago. Though neither can I treat you as any other man. I-I find myself wanting to look at you in a light that is…somewhere in between." He glanced up at Lovino.

This time the boy swallowed, looking nervous as he placed his cup back down and looked away.

Antonio was getting desperate now. "Lovino, look at me." There was a slight waver to his voice and an even slighter growl.

Lovino obeyed, but his face was still blank and unreadable.

"…Never mind," Antonio looked away, standing up. This was a terrible idea. "I'm not very hungry."

"Sit back down, Antonio," Lovino ordered, his voice quiet yet hard.

Antonio looked at him, shocked at the order, but sits back down.

"You're a captain, you have to eat," Lovino pointed out. The Italian pulled his own plate forward and started eating.

"Lovino…" Antonio really didn't want to ask this question. "Do you hate me?"

Lovino let out a heavy sigh, waited, and then: "Of course I don't hate you, you dumbass."

"Do you think you could ever love me?"

Lovino paled at the question, which wasn't a good sign. The boy turned back to fiddling with his food.

Antonio had fully expected the question and picked at his own food with a fork, he let the silence hang, still desperately hoping for an answer.

Then a whisper, quiet, almost inaudible, "I don't know."

Antonio couldn't help a small smile. _That wasn't a no_. He looked back to Lovino. "I don't know much of anything about the notion of love, or even if that's what I feel, but I can't deny I feel _something_."

He thought he was making good progress, letting all this out, talking. Any moment now Lovino would finally look at him like he used to, like Antonio was the only thing that mattered…

"Hmm," was what he got instead, and for whatever the reason that was the final straw.

He slammed his hands on the table, "Damnit, Lovino, talk to me!" His voice nearly cracks.

Lovino stood up and copied the man's table slamming. His eyes were glistening with anything but a positive emotion. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY!? SERIOUSLY, ANTONIO, _WHAT_!?"  
Antonio shot to his feet, "I don't know! Something!" He spun around, turning his back to the boy and running his fingers through his hair, officially messing it up. "Anything…"

Lovino breath was ragged as he spoke, "I don't hate you! I'm not mad at you!"

"Then why act like it," his voice was almost fearfully quiet, his back still turned.

"Because it's what I do. It's how I protect myself."

Antonio whirled around and moved so quickly Lovino had no time to react before he was pulled into a tight embrace.

"Well _stop_ ," Antonio snapped, his voice heavy with emotion. "You don't need to protect yourself! I made the decision twelve years ago that I would always protect you!"

Lovino was shaking; Antonio could feel the dampness on his neck that told him the boy was crying. He tightened his hold. "I'm not asking you to forgive anything I've done, Lovino. But I'm asking you let me in, to trust me. I may be a pirate…" he pulled back to look him in the eyes. "But I never go back on my word. And I gave my word to care and protect you. Always."

Lovino's look was hard to decipher, Antonio believed he saw genuine affection in the green depths, but there was something else, something holding him back. Then he lifted his hands up and tugged the taller man's hair.

Antonio's hands trailed down to rest on Lovino's waist. He wanted to hold him again, but he also didn't want to make any drastic moves. And after Fernandez, Drastic was his middle name.

"When did I ever say I didn't trust you, idiot?"

"When did you ever act like you did?"

"Lots of times, I trust that when you trap me on this ship it's for my own good. And since I don't try to stir the ship the other way every time you and Kirkland fight to release your sexual tensions for each other, I must trust you to keep us all alive."

Lovino smiled with adoration, "Lovino… I used to fight to protect my gold. Now I fight to protect something else."

Lovino's eyes trailed to Antonio's neck, curious the man looked down to see the Timeless out from under his shirt, he quickly hid it again. "I meant you."

"Yes," Lovino replied, not in a voice that said he believed Antonio, "Because if you let me die my ghost would haunt you forever." His hand slipped up to tickle the back of the man's neck, taking the sting out of his doubt.

But chills ran down Antonio's spine at the contact and a deep exhale left his lips, he liked Lovino touching him.

"You were supposed to laugh," Lovino informed him.

Antonio chuckled, "Forgive me."

Lovino waved his fingers threateningly, "Only if you laugh."

"I can't just laugh on the spot. Unless you want to hear the fakest laugh you've ever head, and I'm dreadful at fake laughs."

Lovino shrugged, "Fine." Then used both of his hands to re-tickle Antonio's neck.

He snickered at the sensation and gently pushed Lovino away while holding him at arm's length. "I don't have the rulebook in front of me, but I doubt a cabin boy is permitted to tickle his captain."

Lovino shrugged carelessly, "The Matador crew isn't known for following rules."

Antonio cocked an eyebrow, "Ah, true."

For a minute they stood there smirking at each other, Antonio's thoughts trailing to how much he wanted to kiss the boy again. It might have shown on his face because Lovino suddenly turned awkward. "Uh…the wine was okay."

"Si, it was one of my better bottles…" he released the Italian "Let's not let it go to waste."

"Not on your life." They sat down and Lovino finished his glass before pouring some more.

Antonio drank as well, admitting to himself he wouldn't mind if Lovino got a little tipsy. "You know, I remember giving you you're first cup of wine. You were all excited."

Lovino lifted his head up with pride, "Yeah, and even back then I held my alcohol like a champ."

Antonio chuckled, "And even now are no match against me."

Lovino smirked knowingly, "I accept that challenge."

A few minutes later the bottle was empty, Antonio guzzled the last of his glass.

Lovino stood up and slammed his empty glass on the table, swaying oh so slightly. "I wine! I mean I win!"

Antonio placed his glass down as well, "Quite on the contrary, _I_ win!"

The younger man scowled, "How can you tell?"

"Hm…I'm not sure. Usually it's done with liquor so usually only one person is left standing after the bottle is gone…perhaps who ever is the stronger drunk?"

"Okay! How do we figure _that_ out?"

Antonio stood up and stepped away from the table, he held his arms out in a wrestling posture and wiggled his fingers threateningly, his face pulled back in a grin.

Lovino stood completely still for a few moments before lunges at the man, slamming into him.

Using the momentum Antonio lifted him up and spun staggeringly in a circle before they both tumbled onto the bed.

Lovino half-heartedly struggled against Antonio's grip before giving up, limbs going limp. "Okay. You win."

"What's my prize for winning?"

Lifting his head with effort Lovino kissed the man's cheek. Woozy Antonio took that as an invitation and moved his head, replacing his cheek with his lips. Lovino easily opened his mouth for him. Antonio's stomach flutter at the granted access and it's far too easy to take it, deepening the kiss. Lovino tasted like wine but a hundred times better.

Lovino pulled his lips away, his breathing heavy. Antonio's eyes flickered over the portion of the boy he could see from where he was draped over him, taking in the soft, tan skin and silky dark hair, that adorable curl that always stood up and Antonio was never allowed to touch. He turned back to the younger man's eyes, he knew his own eyes glowed with lust but it wasn't just that. It was never just that.

"It's not…comfortable," Lovino crawled out from under Antonio to make himself nice and cozy on the pillows.

Antonio sat up on his knees, straddling Lovino. "By all means, get comfortable, just so long as you let me kiss you again."

Lovino blushed, "Y-yeah. You can do that."

Antonio fell forward, catching himself on his hands so he was suspended over the Italian, he was grinning with a mixture of hunger and kindness.

Lovino lifted a shaking hand to caress the man's cheek, ear, jaw line, and traced his fingers over his lips. "You're pretty."

He nuzzled his head into Lovino's palm, "And you're beautiful." He kissed the hand before lowering his head to kiss the boy's lips. As Lovino explored the pirate's mouth he wrapped his arms around his neck. Antonio groaned hungrily and ran a bold hand up under Lovino's shirt to caress his back.

Lovino moaned at the touch and traced his lips over Antonio's cheek. "Your fingers are warm."

The Spaniard's lips grazed Lovino's ear as he whispered, "Your skin is so soft." His accent was deeper than necessary and his fingers tightened their grip.

With a groan Lovino pushed himself closer against Antonio's body who appeased him and rubbed against him, causing delicious friction. His hands slid under his shirt and ran over the younger man's torso, feeling his muscles contour.

Lovino continued to kiss him roughly, nipping his lip and letting his hands roam. The whole thing was causing Antonio to lose his breath as he continued to grind their bodies together, any logic leaving him as his blood went south.


	21. Chapter 22

Ch. 21:

 _Spamano_

For the hundredth time Antonio checked the dinner over. It was one of his better meals, as he considered himself a fantastic cook. He had found an old but classy two person table down in the cargo hold and had brought it into his cabin. He had thought about adding candles but didn't want to risk them falling and starting a fire.

He finally sat down on the bed and started to flip a coin he found in his pocket, with his free hand he rubbed his fingers through his hair, wondering if it was too fixed up. Maybe messy would work better for him.

There was a loud throat clearing and then someone knocked at the door, dropping the coin Antonio sprang to his feet and practically jumped to the door, swinging it open. He ignored the apprehension fluttering in his stomach as he spoke: "Hola." He took a step back, "Please, come in."

It was an understatement to say Lovino looked suspicious as he walked into the cabin, taking in the romantic setting. He muttered something and the Spaniard thought he had heard the word 'Gilbert'.

Feeling the awkward atmosphere Antonio rushed over to pull out a chair for the Italian who sat down stiffly. He was making an obvious effort to stay as far away from Antonio as possible.

Antonio pushed him up to the table before walking to his side and grabbing a bottle of wine he had saved on a whimsy. He poured Lovino a glass before doing the same for himself and sitting down across from him.

Lovino took his glass, and after giving it a wary sniff (no doubt his mind remembering the tomato), took a sip. Apparently the drink was up to his taste because he immediately took another, larger sip.

Antonio tried his own glass before placing it back down with enough force for the dishes to let out a metal ring, angrily resolving to himself that a captain should not show his awkward.

Lovino had jumped slightly at the force and quickly put his own goblet down, as if he thought taking a drink had angered the older man.

Antonio inhaled, "Lovino…about earlier today." He met the younger man's eyes, there were wide and unreadable. "I won't say I'm sorry. Because I'm not…I really have been wanting to do that. However, it is not merely because you're attractive or anything so superficial…there's no denying that I hold feeling for you, Lovino." His eyes fell onto his glass; his heart was beating so fast it actually hurt. He had finally said it, the thoughts-the words that had been plaguing him for quite some time now.

But all Lovino said was "Ah."

Antonio bit his lip, frustrated. What did he expect, for Lovino to return his confession and leap into his arms? "I am sorry however for…for you being _here_."

Lovino only nodded and took another sip.

Lovino furrowed his brow and returned to staring at his wine. "I'm not the best with words but…I, I know I can't treat you like the child from so long ago. Though neither can I treat you as any other man. I-I find myself wanting to look at you in a light that is…somewhere in between." He glanced up at Lovino.

This time the boy swallowed, looking nervous as he placed his cup back down and looked away.

Antonio was getting desperate now. "Lovino, look at me." There was a slight waver to his voice and an even slighter growl.

Lovino obeyed, but his face was still blank and unreadable.

"…Never mind," Antonio looked away, standing up. This was a terrible idea. "I'm not very hungry."

"Sit back down, Antonio," Lovino ordered, his voice quiet yet hard.

Antonio looked at him, shocked at the order, but sits back down.

"You're a captain, you have to eat," Lovino pointed out. The Italian pulled his own plate forward and started eating.

"Lovino…" Antonio really didn't want to ask this question. "Do you hate me?"

Lovino let out a heavy sigh, waited, and then: "Of course I don't hate you, you dumbass."

"Do you think you could ever love me?"

Lovino paled at the question, which wasn't a good sign. The boy turned back to fiddling with his food.

Antonio had fully expected the question and picked at his own food with a fork, he let the silence hang, still desperately hoping for an answer.

Then a whisper, quiet, almost inaudible, "I don't know."

Antonio couldn't help a small smile. _That wasn't a no_. He looked back to Lovino. "I don't know much of anything about the notion of love, or even if that's what I feel, but I can't deny I feel _something_."

He thought he was making good progress, letting all this out, talking. Any moment now Lovino would finally look at him like he used to, like Antonio was the only thing that mattered…

"Hmm," was what he got instead, and for whatever the reason that was the final straw.

He slammed his hands on the table, "Damnit, Lovino, talk to me!" His voice nearly cracks.

Lovino stood up and copied the man's table slamming. His eyes were glistening with anything but a positive emotion. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY!? SERIOUSLY, ANTONIO, _WHAT_!?"  
Antonio shot to his feet, "I don't know! Something!" He spun around, turning his back to the boy and running his fingers through his hair, officially messing it up. "Anything…"

Lovino breath was ragged as he spoke, "I don't hate you! I'm not mad at you!"

"Then why act like it," his voice was almost fearfully quiet, his back still turned.

"Because it's what I do. It's how I protect myself."

Antonio whirled around and moved so quickly Lovino had no time to react before he was pulled into a tight embrace.

"Well _stop_ ," Antonio snapped, his voice heavy with emotion. "You don't need to protect yourself! I made the decision twelve years ago that I would always protect you!"

Lovino was shaking; Antonio could feel the dampness on his neck that told him the boy was crying. He tightened his hold. "I'm not asking you to forgive anything I've done, Lovino. But I'm asking you let me in, to trust me. I may be a pirate…" he pulled back to look him in the eyes. "But I never go back on my word. And I gave my word to care and protect you. Always."

Lovino's look was hard to decipher, Antonio believed he saw genuine affection in the green depths, but there was something else, something holding him back. Then he lifted his hands up and tugged the taller man's hair.

Antonio's hands trailed down to rest on Lovino's waist. He wanted to hold him again, but he also didn't want to make any drastic moves. And after Fernandez, Drastic was his middle name.

"When did I ever say I didn't trust you, idiot?"

"When did you ever act like you did?"

"Lots of times, I trust that when you trap me on this ship it's for my own good. And since I don't try to stir the ship the other way every time you and Kirkland fight to release your sexual tensions for each other, I must trust you to keep us all alive."

Lovino smiled with adoration, "Lovino… I used to fight to protect my gold. Now I fight to protect something else."

Lovino's eyes trailed to Antonio's neck, curious the man looked down to see the Timeless out from under his shirt, he quickly hid it again. "I meant you."

"Yes," Lovino replied, not in a voice that said he believed Antonio, "Because if you let me die my ghost would haunt you forever." His hand slipped up to tickle the back of the man's neck, taking the sting out of his doubt.

But chills ran down Antonio's spine at the contact and a deep exhale left his lips, he liked Lovino touching him.

"You were supposed to laugh," Lovino informed him.

Antonio chuckled, "Forgive me."

Lovino waved his fingers threateningly, "Only if you laugh."

"I can't just laugh on the spot. Unless you want to hear the fakest laugh you've ever head, and I'm dreadful at fake laughs."

Lovino shrugged, "Fine." Then used both of his hands to re-tickle Antonio's neck.

He snickered at the sensation and gently pushed Lovino away while holding him at arm's length. "I don't have the rulebook in front of me, but I doubt a cabin boy is permitted to tickle his captain."

Lovino shrugged carelessly, "The Matador crew isn't known for following rules."

Antonio cocked an eyebrow, "Ah, true."

For a minute they stood there smirking at each other, Antonio's thoughts trailing to how much he wanted to kiss the boy again. It might have shown on his face because Lovino suddenly turned awkward. "Uh…the wine was okay."

"Si, it was one of my better bottles…" he released the Italian "Let's not let it go to waste."

"Not on your life." They sat down and Lovino finished his glass before pouring some more.

Antonio drank as well, admitting to himself he wouldn't mind if Lovino got a little tipsy. "You know, I remember giving you you're first cup of wine. You were all excited."

Lovino lifted his head up with pride, "Yeah, and even back then I held my alcohol like a champ."

Antonio chuckled, "And even now are no match against me."

Lovino smirked knowingly, "I accept that challenge."

A few minutes later the bottle was empty, Antonio guzzled the last of his glass.

Lovino stood up and slammed his empty glass on the table, swaying oh so slightly. "I wine! I mean I win!"

Antonio placed his glass down as well, "Quite on the contrary, _I_ win!"

The younger man scowled, "How can you tell?"

"Hm…I'm not sure. Usually it's done with liquor so usually only one person is left standing after the bottle is gone…perhaps who ever is the stronger drunk?"

"Okay! How do we figure _that_ out?"

Antonio stood up and stepped away from the table, he held his arms out in a wrestling posture and wiggled his fingers threateningly, his face pulled back in a grin.

Lovino stood completely still for a few moments before lunges at the man, slamming into him.

Using the momentum Antonio lifted him up and spun staggeringly in a circle before they both tumbled onto the bed.

Lovino half-heartedly struggled against Antonio's grip before giving up, limbs going limp. "Okay. You win."

"What's my prize for winning?"

Lifting his head with effort Lovino kissed the man's cheek. Woozy Antonio took that as an invitation and moved his head, replacing his cheek with his lips. Lovino easily opened his mouth for him. Antonio's stomach flutter at the granted access and it's far too easy to take it, deepening the kiss. Lovino tasted like wine but a hundred times better.

Lovino pulled his lips away, his breathing heavy. Antonio's eyes flickered over the portion of the boy he could see from where he was draped over him, taking in the soft, tan skin and silky dark hair, that adorable curl that always stood up and Antonio was never allowed to touch. He turned back to the younger man's eyes, he knew his own eyes glowed with lust but it wasn't just that. It was never just that.

"It's not…comfortable," Lovino crawled out from under Antonio to make himself nice and cozy on the pillows.

Antonio sat up on his knees, straddling Lovino. "By all means, get comfortable, just so long as you let me kiss you again."

Lovino blushed, "Y-yeah. You can do that."

Antonio fell forward, catching himself on his hands so he was suspended over the Italian, he was grinning with a mixture of hunger and kindness.

Lovino lifted a shaking hand to caress the man's cheek, ear, jaw line, and traced his fingers over his lips. "You're pretty."

He nuzzled his head into Lovino's palm, "And you're beautiful." He kissed the hand before lowering his head to kiss the boy's lips. As Lovino explored the pirate's mouth he wrapped his arms around his neck. Antonio groaned hungrily and ran a bold hand up under Lovino's shirt to caress his back.

Lovino moaned at the touch and traced his lips over Antonio's cheek. "Your fingers are warm."

The Spaniard's lips grazed Lovino's ear as he whispered, "Your skin is so soft." His accent was deeper than necessary and his fingers tightened their grip.

With a groan Lovino pushed himself closer against Antonio's body who appeased him and rubbed against him, causing delicious friction. His hands slid under his shirt and ran over the younger man's torso, feeling his muscles contour.

Lovino continued to kiss him roughly, nipping his lip and letting his hands roam. The whole thing was causing Antonio to lose his breath as he continued to grind their bodies together, any logic leaving him as his blood went south.


	22. Chapter 23

Ch. 23

 _USUK_

Arthur couldn't remember ever being so sore on a day to day basis. Alfred had once or twice told him to wait a day or two to let his body heal but then they would be kissing and any such thoughts were vanquished.

But if Arthur really had to choose his favorite thing about this new…relationship with Arthur it would be sleeping with him. That's it, snuggled under the covers, arms wrapped around each other as they listened to the sound of the ship and each others voices. Alfred always had something silly to say, once in a while throwing in something dreadfully nice that made Arthur blush and hide his face in the pillow. And then Alfred would drift asleep, and Arthur would snuggle up against his chest, feeling his chest rise and fall while the sound of his heart beat lulled him to sleep. It was nice having someone to wake up too.

It was a balmy sunny day. Arthur was manning the helm, trying not to make it too obvious he was staring at Alfred who currently wore no shirt as he worked on the cleat.

Beside him stood Lukas who was too busy with his own thoughts to worry about where his captain kept his eyes.

"Almost," he kept muttering under his breath. "Almost there…"  
Arthur swallowed. They were nearing France, both Lukas and Alfred was getting more and more excited at the knowledge though Alfred was more verbal about it. Though once in a while the excitement in their eyes would darken as they both came to a grim conclusion, there was no guarantee they would find what they were looking for.

And what if they did… he wasn't sure what his first mate would do if he found his brother but that didn't worry Arthur, he could get a new second mate and would wish Lukas well wherever he went.

But Alfred…that was something he would worry about. Would he really want to go back to a war that didn't even need him?

Arthur knew the real question that plagued his thoughts: _Would he want to stay with me?_

When Alfred had been younger he had, but this was different, their entire relationship was different now.

Alfred had never said anything about Arthur's invite days ago, but maybe now was the time.

Arthur smiled to himself; yes he'd talk to Alfred at lunch. Surely Alfred would say yes, maybe even invite his friend to join. They'd stay together, waking up in each other's arms, traveling the world until….

…Until Alfred died.

Sudden pain lacerated Arthur's heart and his hands on the helm stilled. He was so bloody stupid. Of course Alfred would die. He was mortal, there was no magic in his blood, and he was aging as Arthur stood there.

"Arthur, what's wrong?" Lukas's voice interrupted Arthur's panicked thoughts.

"N-nothing," Arthur stammered, "I…I just have a bit of nausea, I need to lie down."

Lukas nodded, though he could probably see through the lie and took the wheel without another word.

Arthur lay on his bed; it now carried Alfred's scent along with his own. What was he going to do? He couldn't let Alfred go…but he also couldn't stand the thought of watching him grow old while he stayed young. If only he knew where the Timeless was-

Arthur lifted his head as his thoughts started churning, an idea forming. He did know where _a_ Timeless was. Carriedo wasn't in love; he only had his Timeless because he was greedy. If Arthur could get a hold of it…

His cabin door opened and Alfred walked in, shutting the door behind him. "Are you okay," he asked with concern. "Lukas told me you weren't feeling good."

"I'm fine," Arthur replied with a smile, and he really meant it. He stood up and walked over to him, admiring his bare torso. "I actually have something to ask you."

"I'm kind of dehydrated at the moment," Alfred said with a shrug, "So I might not be at the top of my bed game but if-"

"Not that," Arthur interrupted, "But that's a good back up plan." I wanted to formally ask you to become a member of the Joker crew."

He expected some excitement, some happy hollering or jumping up and down. All Alfred did was tilt his head to the side and give him an odd look, not saying anything.

Which made Arthur panic, "I-I mean you don't _have_ to it's just a suggestion! If you want to leave after retrieving Matthew then I'm fine with that I can find another cabin boy or-"

Alfred broke into laughter, putting his hands on Arthur's shoulders to calm him down. "Don't have a heart attack. I didn't say anything because I had thought I was already a member. You know when you first asked me."

Arthur blushed, "Ah. Okay then. That settles that."

Alfred smiled fondly, "You look like a little boy when you blush like that."

The words only made Arthur turn redder and he looked away, "I'm your captain now, show some respect."

Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur, "You're my lover first, captain second."

Arthur tried to push away, "Let go of me, you stink!"

Alfred laughed again and Arthur felt his heart swell, all he needed now was the Timeless and then he'd have Alfred for the rest of their endless days.


	23. Chapter 24

Ch. 24:

 _Spamano_

They were still getting used to being able to touch each other when suddenly Gilbert burst through the door.

"Antonio, we-" Gilbert stopped short when he saw Antonio on top of his cabin boy. "Oh."

Lovino blushed furiously and Antonio cursed, sitting up to glare at his first mate. " _What_?"

"Oh right. Outside! Military ship!"

In one quick second Antonio was up with sword in hand and marching out of the cabin. "Lovino, stay here," he ordered before both he and Gilbert disappeared with the slam of the door.

Lovino stared at the door, trying to process what had just happened. Then he heard the ship vibrate as they shot cannons and he jumped off the bed, scrambling to the window to peer outside. A much larger airship was flying beside them, Lovino swallowed when he saw the large cannons at its base. He saw ropes being flung as the Matador crew invaded the ship.

Lovino groaned, these fucking idiots. The military ship may have just passed on by if they hadn't bothered with them. But now Antonio and Gilbert would try to get the ship blown up.

"I'm gonna have to save these idiots." Lovino decided. He may not have spent most of his pirate life in the background but he had spent plenty of time on working out strategies. If he could just get enough hits on a certain part of the ship…boom.

Determined he slipped out of the cabin and headed out to smack right into Antonio.

"What are you doing," Antonio grabbed his elbow in an iron grip. All around them the crew was fighting uniformed soldiers. "Get back inside!"

"I can help," Lovino insisted. "I know the ship's weak point! It won't take long if we hit it right there!"

Antonio hesitated, Lovino saw the fear in the man's eyes and he grabbed the hand holding his arm. " _Trust_ me."

Antonio took in a deep breath and nodded, releasing him, "If you get yourself hurt I will be very upset." And then he was gone, running off into battle.

Lovino headed to the stern; there he would find the stair case that would lead him to the bilge where they kept the cannons.

Lovino glanced over at the large ship and suddenly his legs wouldn't move. He stared up at the bulwarks, there was a figure standing there, it was Lovino himself…

Memories resurfaced of a cabaret, or specifically a house above the cabaret, where a strong yet aging man raised two twins who somehow always got along despite their differences.

Lovino gripped the railing, feeling like he would be sick. The look alike was looking at him but Lovino could recognize the brown hair and eyes as the childhood, as the family, he was taken from resurfaced.

Feliciano…

Feli….

His little brother…

On the ship he was ready to destroy…

"No, no, no, no, no, no, _no_ ," Lovino begged under his breath as he raced down to the bilge. There a couple of the crew was getting the cannons ready, the cannons that would send that ship down and kill Feliciano.

One of the cannons fired and he could hear it hit it's mark.

Panic set in and Lovino's eyes darted around, trying to figure out how to stop them, they wouldn't listen to him and overpowering them wouldn't work. His eyes set on the rope that kept the cannons tied in place. He hurried to the knot.

"What are you doing," one of the men demanded but it was too late, Lovino being at expert at tying and untying knots. The rope broke away and the cannons shifted, rolling away from the wall and making the crew scurry away.

Up above he heard the blast of cannon fire from the military ship and guilt tightened his chest, did he doom all of them to save his brother?

The men tried to pull one of the cannons back, shooting Lovino filthy looks. But these weren't the strongest of the crew; it would take them too long. The Matador was officially unarmed.

Lovino hurried back up the stairs and to his surprise saw the military ship retreating, turning back where it came from. Back to that island Lovino didn't want to step foot on and know he knew why.

Antonio and Gilbert were busy barking orders, the ship's mast had been damaged and the edges scraped, it appeared the cannons had been aiming for the crew instead of the ship itself.

The men from the bilge roughly pushed past him, one going up to Antonio and started muttering in his ear. As he tattled Lovino made his way to the bow, he didn't want to be near anyone.

His brother was safe, surely. Lovino had remembered him being clumsy but that one blast the Matador landed couldn't have knocked him down. Maybe he wasn't clumsy anymore, especially since he was on a military ship of all things. It had been years…Feliciano was probably no longer the brother Lovino knew.

Boot steps thudding behind him warned him that someone was behind him. And he knew exactly who. Lovino refused to look behind him, instead he stared down at the ocean far, far below. He wondered if he could survive such a fall. He was willing to risk it if it meant not turning around.

"Lovino," Antonio's voice was rough, the kind that commanded attention and gave orders.

Forcing himself, Lovino looked over his shoulder, his trusty glare already in place. " _What_?"

Antonio was ruffled up from the fight, his clothes torn and hair a mess, a cut on his cheek that had stopped bleeding. "Lovino, what happened back there," Antonio's voice was flat and serious; "You've seen ships destroyed and buildings burned. Why now, does it bother you so much?"

The Italian suddenly felt incredibly sick. He was right. He had never cared… Years had passed and Lovino was no longer the brother Feliciano knew.

"What does it matter," he demanded, trying to keep his voice from breaking, "It's over and done with."

Apparently the fight had left Antonio with no patience; he grabbed the boy's shoulder and spun him around to face him, his face hard. "Lovino, you nearly crushed members of my crew by freeing those cannons and not only that by doing that you could've easily gotten us all killed. It was a miracle that they decided we weren't worth their time but we won't always be that lucky. You nearly had us all slaughtered for no reason now tell. Me. What's. Wrong!?"

"I'M A TERRIBLE PERSON THAT'S WHY," Lovino finally broke, the tears officially falling.

There was a quiet moment before Antonio let out a quiet sigh and pulled him into an embrace. "I'm sure that's not it. Why don't we get you lied down and we can talk about it. Si?"

He braced his fists against the pirate's chest to push him away, but ultimately Lovino just couldn't find the strength. He fell limp in his captain's arms, a harsh sob escaping his throat. He felt Antonio pick him up as he was carried back into the cabin and placed on the bed.

Lovino rolled away, not wanting to face Antonio. Being on this bed reminded him of what had almost happened between them, it had felt like ions ago and Lovino wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed they didn't go any farther. He gritted his teeth.

"Lovino…" what aggression that had even been in Antonio's voice had faded to a desperate worry."

The cabin boy said nothing.

"Lovino, talk to me," Antonio begged.

He took in a shuddering breath, "…My brother was on that ship."

He could hear the sudden understanding clicking in Antonio's brain. "Was he hurt?"

"No…at least, I don't think so. But he almost was." His voice cracked again, but he kept going, "We almost destroyed that ship, didn't we? Despite how big it was? We would've found a way… I almost killed my brother… And then I realized what you said was true, about the ships and towns. I'm used to it. It may have scared me but I never felt sorry for the lives I've ruined… I'm a monster just like the rest of you. What-what was Feli even doing on that ship? He can't fight! Can he? Has he become strong and brave while I was here ruining lives?"

Antonio didn't reply, there was a sudden tension in the air and Lovino sucked in a breath in horror. He had just called Antonio a monster. He buried his face in the pillow, breathing in the familiar scent. There was no point trying to take it back, Antonio wouldn't buy it, and in a way it was true.

After another long moment of silence he heard Antonio start to move around. He peeked from the pillow to see him pulling items out of cabinets and drawers, before placing them in this old leather bag he had found years ago. Finally he placed it on the bed, it was full of preserved food, a canteen of water, a few rolls of banknotes, and a first-aid kit. Lovino sat up and stared at the bag.

"You're right," Antonio finally spoke, his voice was monotone but Lovino could hear the layer of anger and pain beneath it. "You've been living in a den of _monsters_ too long…" He walked out of the room without another word, once again yelling orders.

Lovino paled. Antonio was kicking him off the Matador. At first fear pumped through his veins and he was ready to dash outside and beg Antonio to let him stay…but then he truly wondered if he wanted to stay? He had known the Matador for so long, but if he could go home to his brother and grandfather, that sounded like such a better option. Besides it wasn't the Matador that had made him stay for all these years…he knew that now…

Antonio couldn't think, couldn't feel, hell he was ready to give up breathing. The Matador could still fly and he was going to take it to the nearest port, when the crew demanded why (they were tired, they wanted to rest), he told them it was time to tell the cabin boy goodbye.

A majority of the crew, having been told about the cannon incident, took the news gladly and got to work. His first mate was not of that majority.

"Wait-what," he gaped, walking to Antonio's side.

"You heard me," the Spaniard growled, "I cannot force him to stay among us 'monsters' any longer." He still flinched at the word, the pain that had nearly made his heart stop when he heard Lovino call him that.

"Hold on, hold on," Gilbert demanded, "Backtrack, explain, details, slowly!"  
Antonio took in a deep breath, "He doesn't want to be here, Gilbert. He made it pretty clear. I quote: 'I never felt sorry for the lives I ruined…I'm a monster just like the rest of you.'"

He saw the shock and pain in Gilbert's eyes, "Lovi really said that?"

Antonio nodded, "Straight from his own lips."

"… I'm sorry, Toni."

He didn't need his friend's pity. "No, no. He's _right_."

Gilbert placed a hand on his shoulder, "Tonio, let me steer the ship. I'll get us to a port. Go back to your cabin and rest."

Antonio snatched his shoulder away. "He's in my cabin, you idioto!"

"I know," Gilbert replied softly. "And you need to say goodbye."

Lovino didn't react when Antonio reentered the room minutes later. His knees were up to his chin, his arms wrapped around his legs as he stared at the bag with an empty expression.

Neither of them were looking at each other when Lovino finally spoke, "So that's it…I'm leaving?"

"I'm setting you free," Antonio nearly spat. "That's what you want, right? It's what you've always wanted."

"Yeah," Lovino admitted, "But not like this."

"What other way is there," Antonio asked, "We'll make port at the nearest dock, and you're free to go. You can use those notes to pay for a ship back to Pasuta. You can find your brother and grow up with your family."

He faltered and Lovino looked up, he hadn't been prepared to see the pain in Antonio's eyes as he looked at him. "You could find love and start a family. You won't have to play monster anymore."

Lovino felt his empty expression crack, knew his fear and heartache was there for the man to see. He hungered to return home to his brother now that he had seen him; he hungered to restart his life. But he didn't want to do it alone…

"Will you come with me?"

Lovino's pain must not have been as obvious as he had thought because Antonio actually looked shocked by the words, like he truly didn't know how his cabin boy felt. For a moment hope swelled in the boy's chest that Antonio would accept the invitation but after a moment the man looked away and found his words, "I am a captain, Lovino. This is what I do. This is all I know."

The rejection hit harder than Lovino had thought it would. He muttered a quiet 'okay', surprised that his voice didn't crack.

This was it. This was the last he'd see of the man that had been the center of his life for so long, and it seemed only know that Lovino realized how important that center was. If he had to go, he'd have a powerful memory to keep him warm.

"Antonio, come here for a second."

The man hesitated before obeying, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Lovino wasted no time in wrapping his arms around his captain's neck and slammed their lips together.

He felt Antonio stiffen before he returned the kiss and embraced him tightly.

Lovino spoke against his lips, "I want-I want to say goodbye!" He covered the man's mouth with his again before pulling him down to lie over him.

Antonio's kissing got rougher, desperate even, as Lovino wrapped his legs around his hips and slid his fingers under Antonio's shirt, feeling the hard muscle underneath.

Antonio broke the kiss, his breathing heavy, and placed an affectionate kiss on the boy's forehead before doing away with the younger's shirt.

With his heart thrumming Lovino spread his arms out, offering himself to the pirate. Antonio's lips danced across his neck and chest before suddenly pausing. He sat up quickly, and Lovino saw there were tears in his eyes.

"No," the Spaniard breathed, "I can't…" He closed his eyes, trapping the tears, and burying his head in his hands.

"What-wait," Lovino stammered, sitting up, "Please don't stop."

"Lovino, I _can't_! This isn't like those stands with girls I barely knew who would be gone come morning."

Lovino scowled, "I know that! But I still want… and if this is it then it's my only chance."

Antonio's head was still covered by his fingers as he spoke, "You…you don't _have_ to go." He lifted his head to show sad green eyes, he spoke in a low whisper: "This doesn't have to be it. I'm giving you the choice, but Lovi…" He extended a hand to run his fingers through Lovino's hair. "You don't have to choose it. I will let you go, and not look back if that is what you ask of me, but I cannot let go by bringing myself closer…"

Lovino's vision blurred and he realized he was crying. "But this isn't the life I want Antonio. This is hardly any life at all." And he meant it. He had always known if he had a choice to life a different life he would. He wanted a house, a family, a place to call home. The Matador was not that home.

"I know," Antonio admitted, he leaned forward to brush their foreheads together so Lovino had no choice but to meet his sad, sad eyes. "Which is why I'm letting you go, but I can't have a one night stand with you Lovino. I can't do it. It would break me."

"That's not what this is," Lovino tried to snap but there was no bite in his words. "I'm never going to see you again. You were the focus of my life for _years_. I'm going to mis you, I need this, I need this memory."

"It's already so hard to say goodbye." Antonio faintly brushed their lips together before resting his head in the crook of Lovino's shoulder.

Lovino wrapped his arms around him. He resigned himself to the fact he would not be laying with Antonio tonight and a part of him knew that was for the best. The pirate was right. Doing so would only break them, so them what they could have had if…if…

"Please come with me, Antonio," Lovino begged into his hair. "Gilbert can captain this ship, come with me."

"I-I don't even know if I could," Antonio's voice was muffled against Lovino's skin. "This ship, its home. The only home I've ever known." Antonio suddenly broke away and stood up, "And…and I can't love you. I can't."

Lovino flinched at the words then saw Antonio's hand go to his neck and his grief was burned by a bolt of anger. "That's right. But can't you just give the Timeless up?"

Antonio stared at him as if he had gone insane; the crazy hunger in his eyes was back from whenever such a topic was broached. "No." The word was firm, final. And Lovino finally knew. The question that he had asked himself for so long was finally answered.

Antonio had the choice between the Timeless and Lovino.

And he had chosen the Timeless.


	24. Chapter 25

Ch. 25:

 _Franda_

Matthew and Francis sat by the fireplace. Francis was sewing a scarf of silver and blue (another hobby he had picked up), while Matthew told him about his childhood.

He had never thought he had lived an eventful life but after learning of Lisa Matthew decided he wanted to give Francis stories to remember him by when he was long gone.

"She was sickly a lot," he confessed, "So I usually lay with her and read her books."

"What kind of books?"

"Anything we had lying around," Matthew shrugged, "Adventure, mysteries, even politics." He smiled shyly, "One time I tried to read her a romance novel, I didn't get very far."

Francis threw his head back and laughed, making Matthew blush deeper.

"It was always snowing at home," he changed topic. "But whenever it was warm Mother had me go outside and try to make some friends."

"And did you," Francis asked.

Matthew ruefully shook his head, "No, I-I wasn't very good at talking with people…nobody wanted to talk to me."

Francis looked deeply offended at those words, "Your neighbors were obviously not the brightest of people."

Matthew shrugged again; it had been years ago, it didn't him anymore. He looked up in thought, trying to think of what else to tell Francis. "My childhood was pretty uneventful," he finally admitted.

"Then tell me something else," Francis encouraged, "How did you and Alfred meet?"

Matthew let out a soft chuckle as pleasant but slightly bitter memories resurfaced. "I moved to America to help with the war effort and we ran into each other on the first day of training. We both let out the most blood-curdling screams, I thought I had split in two, Alfred pointed at me and cried out 'I found my long lost twin! I didn't even knew I had one!'"

Francis joined the younger man's laughter, sliding off his chair to join Matthew on the hard wood floor. "What made you want to join a war that wasn't even in your own country?"

Matthew's eyes trailed to his hand, fingers splayed across the wood and awfully close to Francis's own hand. "It was for a good cause and…my mother had just passed away, I had nothing else to do… She was just too sick…"

There was a quiet moment that was only decorated with the sounds of the crackling fire. But Francis finally spoke, his voice soft and understanding, "I'm sorry for your loss…"

Matthew turned his head to look right into the man's sapphire eyes, "I'm sorry for _your_ loss." His hand moved forward to hold Francis' fingers. His eyes wide and earnest, expression distraught and the Immortal was startled by Matthew's sudden sincerity.

"It's okay," Francis insisted. "I'm used to it."  
"You shouldn't be," Matthew's hand tightened. "You shouldn't be _used_ to losing people you love. I may have moved on from my mother's death but I'm never going to get used to knowing my loved ones are dead! I'm never going to be used to the fact that Alfred is never coming for me!"

The words had Matthew flinch back, as if his own words had struck him. He pulled his hand away from Francis and desperately swiped at the rising tears blurring his vision.

Meanwhile Francis watched him in a surprised silence, he leaned forward and his voice was so soft, like Matthew was a startled fawn. "What makes you say that? You told me countless times your friend would come for you."

Matthew sniffed loudly, pulling his lips up in a bitter smile. "I thought so but it's been a month and I just…it hurts Francis. It hurts to wait like this, it'd be easier if I just-just assume I'm not getting my best friend back."

And Matthew broke down. He buried his face in his hands and let the tears out, his shoulders heaving as he sobbed and his brain screaming at how he was officially alone. Alfred didn't survive, he was gone just like his mother and he was alone…he always would be.

Then arms wrapped around him and he was pulled to Francis' chest, the man's heartbeat somehow louder than Matthew's crying.

"Hey, hey," Francis breathed against Matthew's hair, his hand making soothing circles against the younger man's back. "Let's not jump to conclusions."

Matthew wanted to insist he wasn't jumping to conclusions but crying was taking too much of his energy. And after a few minutes of Matthew sobbing and Francis soothing him, the Immortal spoke: "I don't want you to worry though. You can stay right here with me, as long as you want, forever if you wish." He chuckled sadly and it sounded so sad, "I miss having someone to care for."

Mathew nuzzled into the man's chest. _But I can't stay with you forever, I don't want you to get attached, not if I can't be with you._

Matthew let out a soft breath. _But oh, am I in love with you…_


	25. Chapter 26

Ch. 26:

 _USUK_

The Joker stopped at a port and Arthur released Alfred to explore. He was jumping around like a puppy, they being so close to Paris. While Arthur planned to load up on weapons (he doubted those traffickers would just give the boy back, or any information if the boy had been sold), Alfred was looking for a present for his friend.

"Matthew can stay with us, right?" Alfred had asked before they landed. "When we find him, and if he wants to, he can join the Joker, right?"

"Of course," Arthur had smiled. _I'd do anything to make you happy_. And did that cabin boy's face lit up at those words.

While Alfred entertained himself Arthur and Lukas went to hunt down supplies. With the help of his clever first mate they managed to get most of the inessentials at good bargains.

As they headed back to the Joker with the day's harvest Arthur spoke, "Sure you don't want to buy something for your brother? I gave Alfred an allowance and he'll probably spend it all on gifts for his friend."  
But Lukas shook his head, "I'm not like Alfred, I don't know what my brother likes."

 _I'm not like Alfred, I don't believe we'll find my brother_.

Before Arthur could find anything to say Lukas came to a complete stop, his eyes zeroing in on someone across the crowd. Arthur followed his gaze and to his shock saw Antonio's cabin boy. He looked lost, a bag slung over his shoulder and his head turning this way and that as if looking for a purpose.

Antonio was no where in sight, Antonio who had a Timeless, Antonio who obviously adored his bratty cabin boy…who'd do anything for the scrawny lad…

Arthur's brain clicked.

.

Lovino clutched the bars between white knuckles, his teeth bared in a mix of a scowl and mocking smile. "You're wasting your time, you know," he spat. "I'm his _ex_ -cabin boy. He's not gonna trade me for the Timeless." His final words had a lace of bitterness to them.

Alfred stood beside the cell, looking at the boy with concern before turning that expression to his captain, "Arthur…this is a bad idea."

But Arthur ignored Alfred's words, which stung, instead he focused on the strange radio hanging on the other wall. Lovino sneered and cast his mocking expression to Alfred, "Your captain isn't the brightest, is he?"  
Alfred didn't answer, the radio released an awful static noise and Arthur crooned in triumph, flipping knobs and switches, the receiver held by his ear. When suddenly a deep accented voice came from radio, "Si?"

Alfred noticed the way Lovino tensed, and he recognized that starving look in his eyes and he wondered what on earth Arthur thought he was doing.

One could hear Arthur's canary eating grin, "Hello, Carriedo."  
Immediately a nasty tension filled the air, "…Kirkland…"

 _This is a bad idea_ , those words ran through Alfred's head and he felt like panicking, _This is a bad idea_.

"You'd better have a reason for infecting my radio with your voice, Brit," Antonio hissed.

Arthur was still smug, "Oh, I do. I've got a deal to offer."  
Antonio's reply was quick, "Sorry, not sorry, to say I'm not interested."  
"Oh, deary," Arthur's tone sent icy water down Alfred's spine. "I think you'll find it's a deal you can't refuse."

Both Alfred and Lovino paled when Arthur pulled out a pistol form his jacket and smoothly turned to aim it at the Italian, a warning look in his eyes.

Alfred stared at him like he had never seen the man before, "Arthur…" his voice wasn't loud enough for any of them to hear.

Lovino's fear, however, had quickly been replaced by anger, and he screamed: "I already told you, Brit! Your stupid plan won't work so don't waste bullets! Listen to your cabin boy this is a bad idea!"

But Alfred's fear was nothing compared to the absolutely horrified voice that blasted from the radio, "QUE!? _Lovino_!?" But like his cabin boy Antonio quickly changed from fear to fury, "You…" his voice was like venom, "What do you want, Kirkland?"

Arthur's lips were stilled pulled up into an almost plastic-like smile, "If you ever dream to see your cabin boy again…hand over the Timeless. Savy?"

"He's not going to do it dumbass!" Lovino spat, "This is a waste of time!"

"Just hand it over," Arthur ignored Lovino. "And I won't touch a single hair. You have my word."

Antonio spoke: "Deal."  
Arthur lowered his pistol arm but Alfred was too busy looking to Lovino, the boy looked in utter shock, his entire entity in disbelief. "ARE YOU SERIOUS, ANTIONIO!?" his sudden yell made Alfred jump. "NO! Don't give him your Timeless! He's not gonna do anything to me!"

Alfred looked once again at his captain, "Would you, Arthur?" He was afraid of the answer.

Arthur's arm shot up to re-aim at the boy, "Do not test me, Vargas. And you," he turned to Alfred and the cabin boy felt sick. "All this time, have I truly taught you to doubt me?"

That was a perfect word to describe how Alfred was feeling: doubt. Who was this man that had taken his Arthur away. But he couldn't reply, not that he wanted to, Antonio had panicked when he heard the gun click: "PUT THE GUN DOWN YOU BASTARD! I'll-I'll give it to you. Do not hurt my cabin boy."

Lovino's eyes were glassy as they stared at the radio, "Antonio…"

Arthur pocketed his weapon, "I thought you'd agree. There's a port not too far off from here, you should be able to find it. Be there at noon tomorrow or the deal's off and the boy's mine to do with as I please."

"You'll have the Timeless, _snake_."  
"No, no, no, no! Antonio you can't do that!" Lovino's pain was palpable and it sliced at Alfred's heart. "Don't listen to the Brit. You know he's full of it. I'm fine. Just go, go away, I can save myself."

"…Lovino…" the word was soft, spoken like a prayer, and Alfred was one hundred percent positive what Arthur was doing was wrong.

"Please don't save me," the Italian sounded on the verge of tears. "You'll die without the Timeless."

"I know," Antonio sounded as if stood with a rope around his neck and had accepted his fate. "But…I think I prefer dying with you than living without you."

Arthur's cold voice interrupted, "This pish posh can be finished in person tomorrow." He turned the radio off before Antonio could say another word.

As Lovino slowly sunk down to his knees Alfred whirled on Arthur, "How could you _do_ that!?"  
Arthur gave him a droll stare, "Pirate, love." He headed out of the brig, "Now come. We've things to do."

Alfred turned to Lovino, "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," the boy mumbled eyes on the floor. He started whispering to himself over and over, the words sounding like: "Antonio loves me." When Alfred saw the tears rising his hands balled into fists.

"I'm going to get you out of here." He stomped out without seeing if Lovino would reply.

He found Arthur in his room, calmly looking over the map as if he hadn't just showed Alfred how heartless he could be.

"You're really going to do this?" Alfred asked, he wanted to give Arthur one more chance. He didn't want to have to take matters into his own hands.

"Of course, deary." Arthur didn't even looked at him. He was suddenly so unattached and it made Alfred's throat cave.

" _Why_?"

"He has something I want, and I'm hurting no one."

That was it. "Did you not see what happened down there? That look on that boy's face!? The pain in Carriedo's voice?! How could you do that!?"  
Finally Arthur straightened up and met Alfred's glare, "Alfred, I am doing the Spanish swine a favor! His pride would never have let him let go of that trinket but as you see, his love for that boy is greater than his love for immortality. He just needed help to see it. Without this deal he'd have watched his love die and lived on. Watched his love grow old and not be able to grow old with him. I'm helping him."  
"You don't care about that at all," Alfred accused. "You just want that stupid necklace, I have no idea why but it's really all you care about."

Arthur's brow furrowed, "I have my reasons for wanting that object."  
"Are they worth breaking people's hearts?" Cause right now Alfred's felt like cracked glass ready to shatter.

Arthur's expression was unreadable as he looked Alfred over before speaking, "It's worth more than anything."

A crashing rung in Alfred's ears and it took him a moment to realize that it was his heart shattering. He took several steps away from the pirate, the pirate he had pined after, the pirate who had drank too much, the pirate whose smile sent butterflies fluttering, the pirate who had held him so dearly after the throes of passion, the pirate he had fallen in love with…he had all been a lie.

Arthur seemed to finally notice how upset Alfred look. He stepped forward and reached his hand out, "It's going to be-"

Alfred slapped his hand away, his face twisted into a scowl, "Don't touch me. Stay away from me. You're no better than the men who kidnapped me and Matthew." He turned away and headed out the room.

"Alfred-"

" _I said stay away from me_!"

.

Antonio opened his door to nearly be smacked by Gilbert who looked to be on cloud nine. "Antonio! Antonio! You won't believe what just happened!"

"Tell me later," the captain cut him off. "We have a rescue to get underway."


End file.
